


Blessed

by dawnlight



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bilbo is a Ranger Hobbit, Drama, Fem!Ori - Freeform, M/M, Minor pairings - Freeform, Mpreg, OC, Rule 63, Thorin Co. is a Hunter Group, fem!Legolas, fem!dori - Freeform, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4096807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnlight/pseuds/dawnlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a few stroll from Buckland to Bree, and Bilbo had to return with a series of misfortune, one unrequited love to treasure, and an unexpected adventure with a certain Ranger of Dunedain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fateful Night

*

Bilbo never seen this many dwarves in his life before.

Actually, he’d never really seen any dwarf until now. It’s all started with a few stroll –okay, it was two days walking- from Buckland to Bree with Adalgrim Took, in order to prove who had tougher feet. When they reached the gate of Bree, both already too exhausted either to move on or return home. So by the advice of the Gatekeeper, they decided to spend a night in Prancing Pony.

Apparently, the inn also hosted a bunch of dwarves from Erebor, a far kingdom in the North so there’s no spare room left except if they’re willing to take free space in the stable. It’s not what Bilbo and Adalgrim expected, but they took it as they didn’t actually had choice. At least until one of dwarf overheard their conversation and took pity by asking them to share room with him and his brother.

Now that’s a problem.

Not that they disliked dwarves -both hardly knew the kin- but Hobbit of Shire blessed with endless fertility and lust that even their males could bear children, so both young hobbits thought it probably unwise to share bed with stranger, especially if the other party didn’t aware with their special ‘condition’. What if the lust hit in the middle of night? How exactly they could stand not touching themselves in a room full of strangers?!

“Come on, Bilbo.” Adalgrim hissed to his ear, “I’d rather sleep on the couch than sharing my bed with animals.”

Bilbo winced to see his reckless cousin. But Adalgrim made a point here and so he nodded at the dwarf and stretched his hand in greet.

“Frerin.” The merry dwarf –or drunken?- shook his hand firmly, “at your service.”

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours. And this is my cousin Adalgrim Took.”

“Cheers, then.” Frerin raised his tankard and laughed. Seeing such easy-going person made Bilbo and Adalgrim decided to lower their guard by thinking, maybe, maybe spending a night drinking with a bunch of dwarves won’t bring so much trouble.

…………………………………………………

Say that to the hangover.

The next morning –or noon- Bilbo woke up with a groan. Stuffed his face to the pillow, he silently cried for the aches in his entire body. His back felt numb, as if he was smashed and trapped beneath a huge boulder…

No, wait.

It’s not a boulder. It’s a body. A very bulky and naked dwarf was crushing him into a tight hug. For a second he was drowned in haze, until last night memory poured at all once into his mind. The dwarf, Frerin… then more dwarves… then Adalgrim was singing and dancing on the table… then he danced along...a bald dwarf joined them, maybe the name was Dwalin and soon the table cracked and they all fell on their butt… but laugh never left them… and Bilbo laughed the loudest, when a dark haired dwarf helped him to stand… so handsome and gentle… and a good kisser… Bilbo was sure of it, since he was spending the rest of night with the dwarf, rammed to the bed until he lost his mind…

“For the sake of Yavanna…” He was paled when the realization struck. “Da is going to kill me…”

He struggled and shifted from the cage of body. Thankfully the brunette released him and moved to sleep on the side. Bilbo finally could sit and he frowned at the stain flowing down his naked thighs, oh as if he wasn’t screwed enough, he had to see the proof of their naught. He shivered, tried to control the blush which now spreading his pale skin, and snaked his gaze around the room. Nobody’s here except them.

He eyed the dwarf, still peacefully slumbered and his heart clenched at how beautiful the one who took him. Who was this guy? Why so gentle and passionate and lovely? Bilbo came from a land where bearded person was only Gandalf, so he’d never think he would fall in love to an entirely different kin without exception.

Yes, he’s in love, to a person he only knew by the desire and not by the name. Yes, this is a silly and immature love happened to a hobbit who wasn’t even reach his age of coming. And yes, he was tempted to stay and followed his love wherever the dwarf went, but he was also afraid to face broken heart. So he leaned in to kiss the dwarf goodbye, before get dressed and left.

“Adalgrim.” He found his cousin snuggled with an empty bottle of wine in the sitting room full of wasted dwarves, “we had to go.”

 

*


	2. What Truly Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: smut

*

 

When Smaug _attempted_ to attack Erebor, the dwarves realized the main reason why they were destined to seek wealth inside the rock and why they worked with the great forge. They were blessed by Mahal to be fireproof, and so did everything made by dwarven hands, including the gate to the Mountain and the City of Dale. Human might perished in flame but there’s none to fear than an army of angry dwarves marched out their mountain and forced the dragon to flee from their land. Just for dramatic addition, the King of Dale, Lord Girion, managed to slay the dragon as revenge for spilled blood of his people, thus renounce the alliance between two Kingdoms into tight friendship by unison between their Prince and Princess.

Thorin was just a dwarfling when it happened, and he witnessed everything from a small window in the mountain side, where the children and women being kept. He was very young, but seeing dragon boiling his rage and so he decided to grow up with different path than his destiny. He gathered his cousins and though unwilling he included Frerin, his little brother, into the small group of six named The Company. He shared his vision, his wish to be trained thoroughly in combat so when they had their age of coming, they’ll leave Erebor and go on quests of fighting evilness and slaying monsters.

A hundred and twenty years later, the group expanded into a company of thirteen, mainly Thorin as leader, Balin as strategist, Dain, Dwalin and Gloin as ‘muscles’ –don’t let them hear that, it’ll only made them gloated in smugness- Bombur as explosive expert –also wellknown as ‘the cook’- Oin as their medic and herb expert, Nori as the slithering spy –with hair too hideous to be shady character- and Dori as the bait –it’s the toughest job, mind you-, Bifur as weapon maker, Frerin as the archer and Ori was the scout. Lastly, Bofur who claimed that he’s just tagging along for free ale and the thrill. He’s a musician, and so far accepted because he did create great drinking song.

They arrived in men’s city named Bree on their way to seek legend whispered among dwarves in Blue Mountain. It’s a common city with common men, except for the small creatures blended in with the crowds of Prancing Pony Bar. Hobbits, that’s what barmaid called them and the dwarves fascinated to find such strange kin. Their hair twirled in curls, Their body was small with slightly round stomach, their ears pointed in elvish way and they’re bare footed everywhere.

It’s Frerin who started a conversation with them. In fact, Frerin kindly offered to share room with two wandering young hobbits, out of pity, and truthfully Thorin didn’t mind. He enjoyed watching the hobbits as they joined his company feast and listened to tales and boasts of heroic deeds. Though they looked similar to one another, Thorin realized he was attracted to the one with hazel eyes. He couldn’t stop staring and couldn’t stop wondering the possibilities of desiring a hobbit. Thorin had no really restriction to gender but so far he only bed males because he’s a crown prince and it’ll be scandal if he was so lewd to plant his seeds everywhere.

His arousal built when the night grew and instruments played and one of the hobbit dragged the other to dance on the table, kicked the tankards and plates and someone’s nose in process. Thorin felt his gaze darkened, as he judged the small body, fantasizing of roaming his hands around the soft, hairless skin. It grew worse when Dwalin decided to join the fun in the same time with Nori, their table broke and everyone on the top it fell.

The hobbit was right in front of him, legs spread and gave him the final jolt to his lust and with appreciation, Thorin gave a hand to help the poor being standing again.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked, as gentle as his gruff voice could.

 

“Yeah.” The pretty being laughed, so airy and beautiful and suddenly Thorin felt his heart clenched hard.

 

Suddenly, he was in love.

 

…………………………………………………

 

“Wait…”

 

Thorin didn’t have idea how he ended here, cornering the hazel-eyed hobbit to a wall and occupied the pouty lips with kisses. “wait…!” the auburn haired cupped his hungry face in halt, before giggling, “I need to use the loo.” He released the hobbit but that’s only because he had filthier plan in his mind. Stalking the smaller male, he sucked a couple of fingers so when the hobbit unbuttoned the trousers to take a piss, Thorin already towered behind him and placed his hands on each pleasure spots.

The boy cursed, could only hold to the wall as Thorin milked _him_ with a hand and loosened the back end with fingers. He kept stimulating and prepping the hobbit expertly until the young one shuddered and came.

“By the Valar…”the hobbit went limp and with that Thorin carried _him_ to the bed. “You tricked me.”

He was in the middle of stripping himself from his clothes when he paused and stared into now drowsy beauty, “you don’t want this?” he asked while pulling down from his trouser and underpants, giving show of his manhood to the younger brunette, “I can always stop if you don’t desire me.”

_But who wouldn’t desire me?_ That’s a smug question he threw from his intense gaze and so the hobbit began spreading the skinny legs opened and hold the knees close to the chest, presenting him the perfect view of wet and beating entrance. “Tup me, then.” Dared the beauty. And by Mahal Thorin was damned if he refuse such alluring command. So he positioned himself and drove in, laughing breathlessly at the hoarse moan elicited from the hobbit’s throat. It’s so lovely to hear. He loved everything of the hobbit, _his_ hobbit, to the point he didn’t mind to marry this one and get it crowned as his consort.

 

“So… hard…” the beauty writhed, “and too… deep…”

 

_Thanks for the encouragement, sweetheart._ Thorin groaned mentally as he began his pace of long and steady thrusts, sending the bed cracking and the headboard smacking the wall in loud and harsh knocks. At some point he’ll drag deep till his balls slapped the crack, and he smirked to see his dear hobbit squealed and sobbed in bliss. He had long endurance, and more than one release, so he enjoyed it when the boy arched _his_ back and peaked for the second time. 

Slowing down his pace, he began shifting and spooning the boy to hit new angle. The result is amazing. The boy screamed, begged him for more as he drowned the body into a loving hug, kissing and nipping sweating skin until his own release closing by and surprisingly, the boy caught up with the rally and they exploded together. But even when his beloved one drifted into unconsciousness, Thorin began exploring the limp body and praising every bit of skin and marked the boy possessively, until the boy awakened and ready for another round.

When the streak of dawn visible through the window, Thorin dropped dead from the most intense love making in his life, didn’t mind to crush his hobbit beneath because it’ll make the boy understand Thorin owned the body and the Prince will do anything to court this lovely into a sacred bond of love.

He wasn’t aware with the fact that the boy didn’t understand his gesture, so when he awakened, his heart collapsed to find nothingness aside the stain on his bed, and hearing from Frerin that the hobbits were gone as everyone still suffering from headaches.

Thorin couldn’t help but felt like a whore, dumped after being used. It raged him, made he hated himself for treasuring such ungrateful creature. So he requested for a bath, cleansed his body thoroughly in order to erase the presence of the hobbit and killed any spark of love in his now torn heart.

 

*


	3. Tales of a Ranger Hobbit: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how Bilbo ended journeyed with Rangers

*

Since the night in Bree, Bilbo’s life fell into series of misfortune. Just as he arrived in the Buckland, two days later, Primula Brandybuck rushed to the gate to inform him about his father’s passing and questioning his whereabouts. He angered many relatives, for not accompanying Bungo in the death bed and not showing up during funeral. It didn’t make him feel better when Adalgrim stood out to explain their silly journey to Bree and pray for Eru he had to stop the fool before telling everyone they were partying with dwarves on the day Bungo died.

Hollowly he returned home, averted his gaze from his curious neighbors and swallowed the pain from sudden loneliness crept in his heart. He should stay in Bree, he scolded himself. He could beg the dwarf to take him to their place. But then he’ll be leaving Adalgrim alone, and he won’t know about his dad. So he took a deep breath and raised his chin, ready to face the world even in his guilt and grief.

Yet his home wasn’t actually his anymore. During his absence, Sackville-Baggins decided to organize his father funeral and took the guardianship of him as well as moving their entire family into Bag End. Bilbo was surprised, his heart didn’t just give in after having them ruling in his house and treating him as if he’s just one of the decoration. No one cared with him and let him drowned in remorse, only expected him to falter from the shame and dying to end his own life.

So when they found out he was pregnant, his uncle and aunt finally found a new way to push him over the edge. They couldn’t completely own Bag End, nor spending his wealth without his permission. Though unmarried pregnancy was common in Hobbiton and understandable since everyone was aware with bless of Yavanna, to young hobbit between twenty-two and thirty-three, it’ll be huge scandal to family if the baby was coming without marriage or at least engagement.

Frankly, his aunt forced Bilbo to marry Otho, despite the fauntling cousin wasn’t even reach twenty. Of course, Bilbo refused it. He didn’t want to marry a Sackville-Baggins, hence he didn’t want to marry any hobbit. He only had one love. He should treasure it by at least being faithful to the father of his child. However, his family insisted by threatening him, if he didn’t agree with the marriage then Bilbo won’t be allowed to step out from Bag End until his pregnancy is over.

 

_‘And your child will be sent away from Hobbiton, to a place where you couldn’t follow and it couldn’t return.’_

 

Driven by rage and impulse, Bilbo chose to run away. He agreed to marry Otho in the spring, yet during winter he began sending letter to Thain Took and explained his need to get away. If Took’s couldn’t ripe him off Sackville-Baggins claw, then he wished only their help to a way out from Hobbiton and its maddening folks. He would come back, when he was ready. Right now he only needed salvation from his grief and peace to be able moving on with life. His letter answered by Adalgrim, and his cousin promised to come at the end of winter. The young hobbits did arrive during a night, sneaking into Bag End when everyone else were sleeping and stirred Bilbo from dream. Four of them may be noisy companions, but Bilbo couldn’t be happier to see Adalgrim, Ferumbras II, even little Primula and Drogo! What a surprise! Together they loaded his things onto the cart, his dad’s precious books and maps, his mother’s glory box –including the silver spoons, thank you- some food and ale for the journey, then they set off with Drogo waved them a hearty goodbye and a promise to meet again later.

 

For the first time after months, Bilbo could finally sigh in relief.

 

Just for a few days though before their luck were run out. Just as they passed the Old Maggot farm, the cart was ambushed by wolves. The hobbits were chased. Their scared ponies rushed them into the forest which was the worse idea since they only entered the wolf’s territory that way. Thankfully, they were saved by Rangers. The men and women were tall, wearing black gear and long swords as they rode on their horse, scurried away the wolves by torches. One of the Rangers rode beside their ponies, whispering words in foreign language and soon, their cart stopped and the hobbits moaned and complained from the pain and fear.

Bilbo couldn’t even stop shivering. Curled inside the cart, his cousins couldn’t pry him off his _sanctuary_ so the dark haired ranger from before stepped in and rudely scooped him out, making him yelped in panic. At least, he knew better than struggling and harmed his baby. He only glared when he was carried into the man’s chest and had to face the clear grey eyes and a sheepish smile from the brunette.

 

“Are you okay, halfling?” the man asked softly.

 

That’s it. “I’m not half-anything!” he scowled in protest, “I’m a full grown hobbit!”

 

“A hobbit!” the Ranger laughed in mirth, “yes, of course I know what a hobbit is. We’ve been around Buckland for these past months, guarding Shire under the request of the Thain.” As he looked around, his cousins was familiarized themselves by other Rangers. He felt swell of embarrassment pulsated in his stomach for things he couldn’t explain. He sighed to slow them the erratic heartbeat and then he realized the brunette ranger was still carried him as the man kept talking, “been friends with a few Took and Brandybuck. Nice to see you, Adalgrim.”

“Arathorn.” Adalgrim nodded. A wide grin casted on the hobbit face, “I think you better drop our Bilbo now, he really dislikes getting manhandled.”

“Oh, really?” Arathorn chuckled, but the Ranger indeed released Bilbo and let him rushed to Adalgrim side. Bilbo took a side glance and felt nervous because the man was staring at him, but he shook away uncomfortable thought from his mind and decided to move on with the journey, now the cart was escorted back to the main road and marched along with the Rangers as company.

 

…………………………………………………

 

“So, you’re here to deal with the Wolves?”

 

When they camped by the side of road, later in the night, Bilbo brought a bowl of rabbit stew to Arathorn while asking the Ranger politely. He cooked dinner for the Rangers as his thanks for being saved. He delivered it to the Chieftain himself because he wanted to apology for shamelessly snapping and knew no his place. That, and he was weak to mysterious adventurer, always thirsty to hear stories and legends from Outside World.

“Yep.” Arathorn took the bowl with a thankful smile, before gestured Bilbo to share the sitting log with _him_ instead awkwardly stood in wait, “We’re here to make sure wolves only feast on beasts and not the villagers. Winter is harsh season for everyone, but I told Thain if his people are willing to sacrifice some of their meats and livestock to the hungry wolves it’ll diminish the probability to get villagers attacked in their home.” Bilbo found himself agreeing, while reminiscing about a few winters back in the Hobbiton, when he lost his mother’s life due to roaming wolves in Hobbiton streets.

“Why not killing them?” He asked back absently and gained small chuckle from the Ranger which, hard to admit, looked _slightly_ charming. Bilbo averted his gaze to the bonfire across them, unsure what to do with the excitement swirled in his stomach.

“They’re also living being, you know.” Arathorn said, “They’re just following their instinct to survive.” The man then sipped on the stew and had eyes widened in surprise, “hmm, not bad.”

“Just not bad?” Adalgrim passed by them with two bowls for himself, “excuse me, my cousin is the best cook around Hobbiton and you said his stew is just ‘not bad’?! I’m thoroughly insulted, mate!”

“Oh shut it Adalgrim.” Bilbo squealed while hitting the hobbit’s arse with his wooden spoon, “it’s really just plain stew.” He admitted it at Arathorn with embarrassing sigh, “if only we’re at Bag End, I could use some more spices to marinade the meat and added my prizewinning…” and his words were cut by a smooching kiss landed on his pouty lips, “…tomatoes… excuse me why are you kissing me?”

 

Someone whistled in the background and Bilbo didn’t have to turn when he threw his spoon and knew it hit well on Adalgrim’s foolish head.

 

“I just had to.” Arathorn grinned as if it won’t set Bilbo face in dark red fury, “I’m sorry if you are offended.”

 

“No, he won’t!” Ferumbras shouted from next to Adalgrim.

 

“He loved it, see his face is red!” Prim added joyously.

 

“Shut up!” Bilbo barked at his rude cousins, who only answered him with more catcalls. He stood and taking his leave, but Arathorn halted him by holding his hand.

 

“Wait, I’m truly sorry.” The man said softly. “I think we are in the same boat for this.”

 

Did they? No, Bilbo might think of the Ranger as a magnificent being, but he definitely didn’t dare to ask for more than the tales. He loved a stranger once. Even now the love hasn’t falter, only grew big and steady in the form of his baby. So Bilbo took a deep breath and then pierced his gaze on Arathorn, an apologetic smile drew on him as he whispered, “Just so you know, I’m with baby.” he pointed it by placing his free hand on his pudgy stomach. True it looked slight bigger than any male-hobbit because Bilbo was already in third months. “I should be the one who apology for making you thinking there’ll be something between us.”

How the Ranger even jump into such conclusion and desiring him, Bilbo thought of it as mystery he didn’t want to reveal at all. He afraid to grow affection, afraid to stain his immature love for his dwarf just because Arathorn would _love_ to answer the longing he craved from his gaze. So he let the awkward pain struck both of them as the grip on his hand loosened. He’s glad the man understood. Yet the hand stayed holding him and he wondered what’s with this complicated feeling knotted in his chest because Arathorn didn’t just retreat.

 

“Congratulations, then.” Arathorn smiled, though Bilbo swore the grey orbs darkened and conflicted with things he didn’t want to mention. “Who’s the lucky guy? Is he here with us?” As the man said it, _he_ eyed Bilbo’s male cousins in wonder if one of them was Bilbo’s beloved one.

“No.” to admit he was unmarried and bearing a fatherless child tucked his head down with shame. “I love the father but I can’t be with him.” right now he sounded like he was committing adultery with someone’s husband, but he didn’t know whether the dwarf had wife or not so might as well he expected the worst. “I can’t also stay in Hobbiton and married to my relative. He’s a nice boy, but he’s just a boy…” Bilbo was busy eyeing his feet so he didn’t aware with the glint of rage in Arathorn gaze. He only gasped when the man _grasped_ his wrist again, before released him completely.

Bilbo studied the Ranger face as the man gave him a distant look and a silent nod, before returning to quietly eat the stew.

 

He took his leave, glad to tell the truth and straightening the misunderstanding. In the next day, Arathorn rode far in front, ignored the cart completely until they arrived in Tuckborough. Bilbo was given a room in his grandfather hall, and for a few days, he was welcomed and treated nicely by his mother’s family. He was also happy to find out his baby was okay and growing as it should.

He heard the Rangers would depart at the first day of spring and so he decided to cook minced meat pie as a farewell gift. When he entered their living quarter, he found Arathorn was dozing off in front of the window. He was still wary with the way Arathorn ignored him, but he wanted them to be parted as friend so he knocked at the open door and asked if Arathorn wanted some pie. The man acknowledged him with a small smile, before gesturing him to come in so they could sit next to each other.

“Where are you heading next?” he asked as he watched Arathorn dug into the pie.

“Rivendell.” Bilbo heart throbbed at the mention of place. He pouted at the sky and wondering about the possibility, and impossibility of him to be a Ranger and wandered to places he could only see in the map. He heard stories about Rivendell from his parents and he couldn’t help but thinking how unfair it was for him being young and not so adventurous hobbit to begin with. So far he only went to Bree.

He didn’t realized what transpired in his mind was transparently showed in his face, at least until he heard Arathorn muttered, “Come join us.”

 

“Huh?” He snapped his gaze to the man so suddenly that his neck craned in pain. “J-join you? as Ranger?”

 

It’s the first time Arathorn smiled to him again since the night on the road, “as my wife, hopefully.”

 

“But I thought we agreed we don’t feel the same spark to each other.” Despite the grudging blush covered his face, Bilbo scowled lowly.

 

“Love is flexible, my dear.” Said the ranger slyly, and so it began the fury to cloud in Bilbo’s mind.

 

“I’m a mother.” He deadpanned.

 

“I can be the father.”

 

Bilbo felt jolt of pang in his heart. _So hurt_ , it’s so hurt because of course he wanted a father for his son. How a baby would need a father figure to hold it and protect it, and a hero to look after when it grew up. But this is wrong. He can’t just marry _anyone_. And though Arathorn could be the right person to be his husband, he couldn’t just love Arathorn, not with the same spark and passion he had for his dwarf. And that’s unfair for the man.

 

“His father was a dwarf.” Bilbo said it with a sigh. “My love for him will only hurt you.”

 

“I don’t care.” Men, are dangerous creature. Bilbo had been told to stay away from Big Folk and yet here he was, facing one of the most stubborn people he ever knew. “Dwarf, hobbit, elf… whoever you loved, they’re not here with you.”

 

“Please.” Bilbo whispered, “Please I can’t give you anything more than a friendship…”

 

Thankfully, Arathorn only leaned in to peck him in between his eyebrows, “and I won’t demand more from you, Bilbo. Only your hand if you decided to go with me and your trust if you’re okay with me having this unrequited love for you.”

 

…………………………………………………

 

“By the way…”

 

As the Rangers went on the road to Bree, Arathorn asked Bilbo whom sitting behind him on the mount, “you bed a dwarf? Seriously?”

“Why it sounded like an insult?” Bilbo asked back skeptically.

“What? Of course not.” Arathorn laughed a bit too merry, “Just curious you know of how a gentle being such as you ended in harsh-looking dwarf arms.”

“Excuse me!” Now Bilbo was totally offended, “my dwarf wasn’t harsh-looking. He’s very much handsome and quite tall among his kin.”

He was answered by a snort from the Ranger, “Uh, really sweet-pea I’m still taller.”

“That’s it.” He took a glance at a nearby she-ranger, “Eve, please take me with you. I’m done riding with your prickly leader.”

Instead helping him, Eve only chuckled at him, “aww, just screw him already, Bilbo, saved us trouble with sexual tension between you two.”

“I’m with baby!” he shouted with red face.

“Then let him _greet_ the baby.”

Bilbo glared in disbelief. “Eru, I can’t believe you just say that! That’s it! Put me down! I’m walking back to Shire!”

Other rangers shared snickers and laughs, including Arathorn who only snaked back an arm to find his small hand and held his wrist close to the Ranger’s waist. He was still conflicted with this one-way love showered to him, but he knew his baby needed the affection, needed the protection so he tried to swallow the bitterness and stop arguing. He only sighed and leaned his head to the man’s back, muttering, “I hate you.”

 

“Good.” Arathorn nodded optimistically, “hate is the first step to love.”

 

*

 


	4. Accursed Dwarf: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> five years later

 

*

 

Thorin believed he was cursed.

 

Here he stood by the battlement of Erebor, eyes gazing the City of Dale with sour face. He was home, five years after the fateful night in Bree. Sadly Thorin and his company was here for merely a long-term visiting instead settling-in as the King wished for. Durin line was secure within his nephews, however, deep down Thrain always had this long look on him, hopeful to have him find happiness inside the embrace of a dwarrowdam and raising a child of his own.

He wished for the same thing too, believe it.

At least until he met the hobbit. _His hobbit_.

He asked his father once, what he’ll become if he married someone who wasn’t his kin. Though Aunt Trish became the Queen of Dale, and there’s no really restriction for common dwarf to have dalliance with someone from Men race, Thorin was a Crown Prince. But then he was stunned when his father revealed that Dain I, the father of Thror, had fallen in love with a Princess from Men Kingdom and so their unison resulted in taller and stronger Line of Kings. It was ridiculous to find out such silly history behind the height and inhuman endurance of latter born Durin’s, but what sparkled his interest was a _possibility_ for _him_ to marry someone who wasn’t a dwarrowdam. Not that any dwarrowdam undesirable, since they’re all pretty and very respectable due to their rareness. His company member, Dori had married once and widowed, yet she seemed had list of future suitors competing to court her for a ‘second chance’, including Balin and Bofur.

Thorin snorted. How many times Dori had to refuse Balin’s courting gifts she didn’t even became so polite towards the strategist anymore, and how many nights the company had to suffer affectionate love song from Bofur for the grey haired dam. They enjoyed watching the after-effect though, when Dori’s war hammer nearly split Bofur into two. Meanwhile, Frerin grew fond of Ori, the youngest both in Ri household and in their group. She wasn’t even reach a hundred but she became a perfect scout for her quiet nature and skinny figure. From her only brother, Nori, she learned how to disguise herself both from appearance and scent. For now, Frerin and Ori was just friend. They’re often paired as scout and long-range shooter, much to dismay a certain bulky elf with burning jealousy.

Ah, Dwalin. Thorin didn’t even know where to start with Dwalin and _his_ little crush on Ori. He only shook his head and chuckled by himself, thinking about the bald dwarf who got the _balding_ –and scolding from Uncle Fundin- just to impress Ori with _his_ inking.

His grin faltered into a longing smile. No matter how he averted his mind, Thorin always went back thinking about the hobbit. Love was so cruel that he couldn’t just stop dreaming of those hazel eyes which sometimes shifting into the color of emerald and the auburn hair would occasionally glowed in the color of gold. Like a living statue of precious gems, the hobbit often rested next to his side, staring at him deeply and calling his name hoarsely. Yet he couldn’t reach the beauty, couldn’t grasp anything before he woke up with cold sweat and frustrating growl. Mahal, numerously he wanted to go back to Bree and raided Shire to find out where his hobbit was. But the humiliation he got in the waking, the loneliness he had to bear for the last years prevented him from seeking. He hated the hobbit - _he must_ \- for the boy wounded his pride and left without words. How hard it was to wake him up? He’s not a heavy sleeper -okay that was a lie- but the hobbit could at least leave a message or tell one of his friends instead disappearing with no word, no gratitude.

 

His concern brought another question from him to the King.

_“Adad.” He muttered softly, as he walked by his dad in one of their walk through Erebor’s Halls, “what if I love a male?”_

_Sure he said it low enough to only be heard by his father, but the guards around them paused for a second, before they awkwardly continued their duty. Thorin felt his face heated, one hundred and more than fifty years he was, yet love wasn’t really topic he preferred to be discuss about. Still, he really needed some salvation from the cloud in his mind and storm in his heart. So he sought counsel from the King who apparently gawked at hearing such confession. He returned his father a strange look. What? So far, he knew there wasn’t restriction to love and bed males._

_“Thorin.” His father began. “I know love was a strange thing. It bonds people in mysterious way.” Thorin almost grunted to hear such indirect answer. Thrain was well-known with_ his _friendship to Thranduil and Gandalf the Grey. Not Thorin’s favorite people, for him valued honesty and simplicity in speech rather than beautifully spoken poetry. But this is his Adad speaking so he listened. “If it was the only thing could conquer the world, then it was love, for it could melt the coldest heart and rot the purest soul.”_

_“It sounded like a curse.” Thorin replied solemnly._

_“It is.” Thrain nodded. “It was also a gift. It also brings happiness.”_

_“So, I can love whoever I want?” Thorin asked Thrain, almost hoping._

_“Of course.” The answer came with a pity gaze and wary smile, “However, you’ve had duty before love and I hoped your One could bear an heir to our throne.”_

_“We have Fili and Kili.” The spark of hope dimmed both in Thorin gaze and heart as he muttered lowly, tried hard not to offend the King._

_He didn’t see Thrain raised an eyebrow in interest. Only snapped from his somber daze when his father spoke again,_

_“And what kind of dwarrow whom had such privilege to own my son’s heart and mind? Tell me his name.”  When his stiff expression didn't gain any information for the King, Thrain jumped into conclusion and turned to the guards looming behind their back, “Is that you, Dwalin?”_

_Thorin glanced at his friend, admitted that it slightly eased him to see how conflicted and scandalized Dwalin looked right now. “I wouldn’t dare to even dream about it, Your Majesty.” The bald dwarf answered gruffly, almost trying hard to keep_ himself _from slamming_ his _axe right into Thorin’s coy smile._

_“It’s not a dwarrow, Adad.” Absently, he struck another blow into their disastrous conversation. It set his father jaw hard into frown as the King watching him paused for long, before he opened his mouth again and said, “It’s a gentle kin west of Bree.They’ve call themselves as Hobbit.”_

_“And you pledged your only heart into this kin? Their male kin?”_

_“You said there’s nothing wrong to love someone outside our kin.”_

_“Yes, my son.” Thrain tapped his shoulder, “I would not be in the way between you and your love. But you’ve had to come up with solution of how exactly you would fulfill your duty to continue the Line of Durin.” And when Thorin was about to retort, the King grasped his shoulder a bit harder and giving him a warning glare, “and no. as much as I love Fili and Kili, I demanded more grandchildren. I demanded YOUR CHILDREN, running around Throne Room and throwing pranks at War Council. Our line is secured but that doesn’t mean you won’t be free from being a father.”_

_“Adad.”_

_“Let all of you be the witnesses.” Thrain ignored him, and spared his gaze to the now stiffened and tensed guards, “After the Durin’s Day, Thorin Son of Thrain, the Crown Prince of Erebor, shall be going on quest of finding his true love. He will be expected to return only with his heir walking next to his side until my death freed him from the task and he shall take over the throne with no more burdens.”_

 

So this was why he was morosely stood by the battlement, and exactly why he thought he was cursed. After that, Thrain wished to speak no more to him about the matter. His father’s decision is final and he could do nothing about it. He'll only gather his friends and told them about the quest. He would depart alone to Shire, first he would deal with the hobbit curse. maybe if he met again with the hazel-eyed, he would find solace and then move on with his life. Obviously, Frerin and Dwalin laughed at him and Dain wished him a good luck through wide grin. However, Ori volunteered to accompany him which ended by the rest of his group following him to Shire.

 

"Who knows, maybe there's a beast we could hunt in Shire." Said Frerin, snickering.

 

"I've heard from Bree Folks, Shire Wolves are the largest and ruthless especially in winter." Nori replied, "One could grow as big as a warg."

 

"But we're not invited by Shirefolks to hunt there." Balin said thoughtfully, "and I've heard they were protected by North Rangers."

 

Thorin watched his company discussed about their next plan. Truthfully, he didn't want them to go with him. They're not young dwarves with thirst of adventures anymore. They're skilled warrior and hunters. they could stay at Erebor or doing whatever they wanted while Thorin was away on his personal quest. There's no obligation for his companions to follow him. But as he reasoned this to Frerin, the young dwarf chuckled at him in return.

 

"It's a peace time, brother. It's boring."

 

"But I'll be going on personal quest. What'll the rest of you do?!" Thorin growled lowly.

 

"Oh, don't mind us." Happily, his little brother tapped his shoulder, "We'll enjoy watching you suffered."

 

*

 


	5. Tales of a Ranger Hobbit: Part 2

 

*

 

It has been years ago when a hobbit went on an adventure with a bunch of Ranger to the Elven land. It’s not the most dangerous one, thankfully, but for Bilbo it was a new start of his life. Under care of Elrond House, his pregnancy went well and his baby born on summer as an auburn haired dwarfling with the most beautiful blue eyes and a pair of hobbit ears.

 

_“Have you decided on his name?” Gandalf the Grey asked him as they sat by the balcony, a week after he gave birth._

_“I want to call him Frerin. It’s a good name, it's his uncle's name. But I supposed I should give him his father’s name which… I don’t have time and opportunity to ask.”_

_“Do you want to know?” Gandalf asked thoughtfully._

_Bilbo stared at the wizard for a long minute, “do you know?” he replied in careful tone._

_“I can search it out, if you want.”_

_Bilbo looked down, staring at his sleeping son in consideration. Hope was a dangerous word. He could love the dwarf as much as he could but hoping to meet again? No, he didn’t want any_ hope _. Let him nurtured his feeling as unrequited, that way he probably could move on with his life. “No, you don’t have to.” He turned at Gandalf again, “I don’t want to put burden on_ ** _him_** _with my selfish love. But if you could suggest a good dwarven name for my little one, then I would be thankful, Gandalf.”_

 

So his boy named as Darin. _Darin son of Arathorn_ , said the grey eyed Ranger and Bilbo had urge to throw Arathorn into the valley the time Dunedain Rangers were back from their duty in autumn to visit him. At the moment, Arathorn also asked him to join training to be Ranger. He was stunned at the offer, couldn’t believe the Chieftain really gave him such honor, despite he’s just merely a hobbit from Shire. He wasn’t strong nor was built as any ranger, but Arathorn said he was fast and soundless, and whether it’s the truth or it’s just a crap of encouraging words, Arathorn said he’s already halfway to be a Ranger.

 

_‘We don’t focus on strength, you know. We’re not warriors or mercenaries. We guarded forests, healing the earth and we fought evilness in this part of Misty Mountains.’ Arathorn explain, ‘It’s simply that we’re a force of defense. We fought for things that worth to be fighting for.’_

 

Bilbo's training began a year after Darin was born. He really needed to improve his stamina, but he’s a keen shooter –after years spent became the champion in conker game- and a decent swordsman. He preferred to be archer though, because he’s lighter than elf and had unfamiliar scent to most races so he’s a very suitable in long-range attack and scouting job.

 

“So the age of coming is today.”

 

Bilbo thought stopped abruptly as he turned and saw Arathorn approached to sit next to him on this grass field. They were at Beorn’s for a brief visit after scouting the Mountain Pass before winter came. It’s 22th of September and today was Bilbo’s 33th birthday. In Shire, he would had a whole town celebrating his age of coming, even in Rivendell he was always celebrating his birthday by baking everyone’s favorite cakes as gifts. This year, he had to go on his first long-term mission and he’s brooding now because he couldn’t celebrate his special day with his only son.

“I missed Darin.” He muttered. “I’ve been away from home for too long.”

“Relax, Bilbo, it’ll be just a few weeks left.” Arathorn leaned _his_ back onto the grass and lied facing the sky, “We will be there at winter.” When Bilbo only answered it with a low scoff, he got a gentle pat on his auburn curl in return.

His face heated from the seeping warmth of the man’s palm.

He didn’t want to love Arathorn, he prayed for Yavanna.

He didn’t want to love because of pity.

 

“Well,” Bilbo got up from his seat, “I’m gonna ask Beorn if I could use his kitchen. Since I had nothing to do today, I will bake tarts for everyone.” He found his cheerfulness again, though he didn’t want to admit the gentle touch on his head had big influence in lightening his mood. “Do you have any special request, Chieftain?”

“You in my bed tonight.”

His throat became dry and his face flustered, “I’m a mother. Respect me as one, please.” He said grimly.

“I’m the father.” Arathorn shrugged, “with all respect I want my wife tonight.”

 

Bilbo shook his head, yet when the man smiled warmly and whispered a humble, 'Happy Birthday, Bilbo', he couldn't help but leaning down and pecked Arathorn in between eyebrows. He can't return the love, he would never be. But he would treasure his friendship with the man.

 

"You're the closest thing I've could call family, Arathorn." he said, "I wish only for you to be happy."

 

…………………………………………………

 

“Da!”

 

Several weeks after, Bilbo arrived at the entrance gate of Rivendell and welcomed by his toddling son. Despite the dirt on his gear, Bilbo heartily took his baby boy and snuggled Darin into his chest. Some of Rangers loomed around him, greeted the dwarfling by teasing pinch on the chubby cheeks and sly kisses on the pouty lips. Arathorn even snatched Darin from Bilbo and tossed the squealing boy in the air, until grumpy Lindir came to fetch the little one from the man.

It’s ironic, Elrond said to Bilbo once, to see a dwarfling raised by elves. It’s not that Darin wasn’t accepted here. Elf held no grudge for dwarves, only simply loved teasing them for they were opposite kin to each other. But a child’s education should follow after its father, so Darin should learn speaking Khuzdul instead Sindarin and taking apprentice in metal craft aside healing.

 

_‘If the father knew, no, if any dwarf know we raised their kin with our culture, I don’t think they’ll be wise in judgment.’_

 

Bilbo who had no knowledge about the tension between dwarves and elves managed to shrug off the matter. His dwarfling was also born from a hobbit, and he’s also the father so he had right to decide what education is the best for his child.

“I missed you, Da.” When he was arriving at their quarter and thanked Lindir for thousands time for keeping watch of his boy when he’s away, he stripped from his gear and washing up with the boy snuggled to his side. “You went for so long this time.”

“I know, little one.” Bilbo lifted the dwarfling and brought the boy to their bed, “I missed you too.” With that he began showered his child with kisses and tickles, until Darin squealed out loud asking for mercy. After changed of clothes and having a scrumptious lunch, both father and son rested on their huge bed. Bilbo told his son about the tales during his journey past Misty Mountain and onto Beorn’s land.

“You went into Beorn’s? But that’s so far away from here!”

“I know.” Bilbo smiled, as he watched his son’s beaming face and somehow bitterness seeped into him when he stared into the sapphire blue eyes. Darin was the reason he became a ranger, so he could be better than a ‘hobbit’ and protected his son by himself. Although sometimes on his journey, he found caravan of dwarves passing by on routine trade between Erebor and Ered Luin. At the time like this, Bilbo felt most conflicted, torn in between searched around about his beloved whereabouts or kept his love as secret till death took away his breath.

It’s unfair to hide Darin from the father, but he couldn’t stand meeting the handsome dwarf again and had to face the worst.

“Darin.” He asked softly, “how was your study?”

Darin whined, “I don’t like Lindir.”

Bilbo chuckled, “yeah, who does?” he didn’t mean to agree, because Lindir was a very kind elf. Just, being the Head of Household provided the poor old folk with tons of problem. And that’s not mentioning _his_ personal duty to keep Elladan and Elrohir from trouble. “But he’s a good person. He offered to take care of you when I’m away. He’s very fond of you, my jewel, he said you’re his best student and you’re not even an elf.” Bilbo smiled at seeing giddy chuckle spreading on his boy’s cheeks. He showered his son with more tender kisses, with hope it’ll cover up the portion of love which should be given by the other father.

“I’m so proud of you, my boy.” He whispered, “if your father saw you, he’ll be so proud of you too because you’re smart and handsome and strong and…”

“Daaaaaa!” Darin whined again.

“Why are you embarrassed?! It’s just the truth!”

.

 After they spent more moments with teases and whines and laughs, finally the hobbit and his son laid side by side on their bed again, sharing content smile to each other.

“Da…” Darin muttered, “Am I really look like father?”

“Is it bothering you?” Bilbo asked back gently.

“No. I’m happy.” He turned at Bilbo, “but I want to see him, just to make sure.”

“I don’t think you could now.”

“Why?”

“If you had dwarven lifespan, you’re fifty years too young to even leave this place. And since you’re my beloved baby, it’ll need a hundred more for me to allow you traveling.”

Darin was in daze, apparently counting how many years ahead _he_ had to pass _imprisoned_ here, but since it’s more than ten fingers, _he_ frowned. “That’s too long!” _He_ pouted in protest.

Bilbo answered it with a merry laugh. He tucked Darin into embrace as the boy began chattering about Gandalf arrival. “Yesterday, Gandalf taught me Khus…Khuzdul.”

Bilbo raised his eyebrows, “How nice of him. I’ve never know he could spoke khuzdul. So, care to share?”

Solemnly, Darin shook _his_ head, “I’m sorry, Da. Gandalf said, only dwarrow spoke khuzdul. It’s a secret language. I can’t tell you.”

Bilbo pursed his lips. Ah, the adorable being, so stubbornly cute. “It’s a secret even to your Da? After I taught you all about my hobbit costumes and manners? You’re hurting me, my beloved.”

“No! That’s not what I mean, Da!” Darin was even cuter when the boy scowled in defeat, “fine, fine, I’ll teach you. I started with _Khuzd_ and _Khazad_ , means dwarf…”

 

…………………………………………………

 

“Gandalf came.”

 

“I know.”

 

Bilbo and Arathorn watched the cloudy night in Rivendell while sharing a stone bench outside the hobbit’s room. There was only silence crept in between them, before the dark haired Rangers sighed, “He asked me to come helping him scouting Dol Guldur.”

Bilbo paused. He knew what lies there. There’ll be Orcs, and not just simply a colony but a whole town to fit thousands. “When will we go?” his voice was dry, knowing that he was reluctant to leave, not when he’s just coming back home.

“No, you’re not going.” Arathorn replied shortly.

“Don’t be kidding.” Bilbo looked up, eyeing the man in disbelief. “I’m coming with you.” He hissed before Arathorn even managed to say something, “I’m not weakling! I’m a ranger of Dunedain and I refused to be left behind.” In his rage, Bilbo step to stand on the bench and glared right into the man’s eyes, much to amuse the Ranger.

“You’re also a mother.” Arathorn raised a hand to caress his face, and just like that his anger melted and his face flustered in red, “so please, stay.” Arathorn said while trailing down until _his_ palm rested on Bilbo’s storming heartbeat. Though Bilbo disliked the touch, he only broke their staring contest and returned sitting next to the man. He said nothing, only watched the sky again grudgingly. “It’s just a scouting job.” The Chieftain began explained, “there are massive movement from Orcs colony towards Dol Guldur. Rumors said they’ve gathered under command of a Giant Pale Orc named Azog. We’re only spying for information for now.”

“Who’s going?”

“Only me, Galen and Gilraen. The rest will wait at our post.”

“I’m a better scout.” Bilbo knew he was pushing his luck when he should be thankful he wasn’t chosen to go. “The orcs didn’t familiar with my scent so I could sneak into their cave.” But to be left behind felt wrong, especially when he’s good at this kind of job, “Gilraen is too young and Galen is impatient and you’re clumsy. Remember when you accidentally stuck a leg in an air shaft, which then led us to secret passage into Moria?”

“I know it’s very silly. But we’ll be fine.” Arathorn patted his back gently, “trust my luck, Bilbo.”

“No, I don’t trust you.” Bilbo scoffed at now snickering man. Truthfully, he was worried. He cared for Arathorn. He feared for the man since Arathorn was very reckless and impulsive. Many times Bilbo had to witness the man narrowly escaped death. It’s like death answered to _his_ name, every time they went on journey.

“I had bad feeling about this.” He crossed his hands around his chest grumpily, admitted that he suspected something was off with this mission. It’s not merely a scouting job. It could be an ambush. But he argued no more and only set the Rangers off with Gandalf in the next day.

 

*

p/p


	6. Accursed Dwarf: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: I'm really sucks at fighting scene

*

Thorin was cursed, even though Gandalf made sure he wasn’t.

 

His journey to Shire halted. As they went through the Wild, his company met Gandalf. The old wise offered them a quest to share with the Dunedain Ranger. It’s an assassination plan for Azog the Defiler, the Pale Orc which currently rode from Dol Guldur to Moria with a small pack of Warg-Riders. At first, Thorin wasn’t interested, but when the ancient land of Durin’s Folk mentioned, the company became curious. So far they knew there’s only vast emptiness and abandoned halls in the realm of Khazad-dum since their kin fled from what his ancestor called as ‘Durin’s Bane.’

After discussing with the company, Thorin agreed to help Gandalf and so the wizard led him into Beorn land, a territory of a shape-shifter. His father had created alliance between Erebor and Beorn, but since the shape-shifter disliked dwarves, his kin was warned to not cross into Beorn territory under any circumstance.

So under scrutinize gaze of their host, Thorin braced himself to enter the gate and joined a meeting in the house. There are three Rangers waited inside, two men and a woman. All wore black gear and hood, with their hair matched in the shade of pearly black and their eyes colored in similar grey eyes. They were tall, these Rangers from North, no less than Gandalf even for the lady. Yet their host, Beorn, was a couple feet taller than everyone and thrice more vicious and harsh-looking than Dwalin.

One of Ranger –looks like the leader- fixed a judging gaze at him in which Thorin couldn’t help but felt offended and so he glared back. _What’s wrong with this man?_ He asked mentally, while his expression stayed hard and stoic. He’s not best at reading people and he’s not actually care to even try. But something flared in the calm and cold grey orbs. The man was angry at him and Thorin refused to cower from the silent rage, at least until he knew his wrongdoing to make this man so crossed with him.

 

“Gandalf.” Suddenly the man said, hissed to be exact, while speaking to the wizard in foreign language. It sounded like Sindarin, but Thorin never heard the language spoken in a harsh spat and cursing tone before. Gandalf spared the man a concerned look before the wizard opened _his_ mouth and muttered somberly. “No, Arathorn. Mister Thorin here was the heir to Erebor. He had every right to know any news about Orcs movement into Moria, including how we will deal with Azog.”

Thorin was unsure what to react. Now he knew the words were addressed to him, he must demand what had been transpired between the ranger and the wizard. But he was also interested in the way Arathorn –and the other two rangers- snapped a shocking look at him. They remained silent for a while, as Gandalf used the moment to introduce them to one another. The rangers were relatives, as he suspected. Arathorn was the Chieftain, while Galen and Gilraen were siblings and distant cousins to Arathorn.

 

“So you’re a Crown Prince of Erebor?” the man asked with deep voice full of hatred and bitterness. Strangely, Thorin pitied _him_.

 

“Yes.” He only straightened his back and answered firmly, “I’m Thorin Son of Thrain Son of Thror, the Prince of Erebor.” He could see the grey orbs twitched darkly. “But here I’m just Thorin, the leader of the Company. We are the Adventurer, Quests Seekers and Beasts Hunters.” He added it with more informality in his tone, yet all he got was a punch right in his face.

 

…………………………………………………

 

“Ouch…”

As Thorin let Oin nurtured his bleeding nose, he felt presence dropped a weight next to him. Instantly Thorin glared viciously at Arathorn who grimaced at _his_ bruised palm. “Your people really made of stone.” The man grumbled lowly, “but I guess I deserved this anyway.”

“What’s your problem?” Thorin asked accusingly. “I believe I’ve never meet you or your kin until this very day.”

Arathorn smiled, “No, I don’t know you until today.” The man answered coldly, “I’m in mood for a brawl and it happens that you’re the lucky _dummy_ for it.”

“If you want to duel then you should just ask.” Thorin was irritated. How a skilled warrior like him leveled as training dummy?! “No, let me challenge you.” Thorin rose from his seat, ignored his now barely dripping nose and unsheathed his sword, pointed the tip at the gloomy face of the ranger, “maybe you could learn a thing or two from an honorable sword fight.”

The ranger gave him a stern look, before a smile tore upon the man and in no time, the grey-eyed laughed out loud, so hysterically mad which sent Thorin into a fuming confusion. Next to him, he could hear Oin muttered lowly with. ‘This man is insane’ and Thorin couldn’t be agree more. Slowly, he sheathed his sword back and decided to just leave the crazy lad alone.

 

“Ah, **my wife** won’t believe who I met today.”

 

A sharp pang hit Thorin in the chest. He blinked, didn’t know why the words stabbed his heart. He looked at the man again who now grinning widely at him, “Technically, Bilbo wasn’t my wife yet. But soon he’ll be.” Why Thorin had to even care to stay and listened to this absurd rant, he didn’t have idea. He only stood there, stunned as the man talked more, “we had a son, you know, and when this quest ended, I’ll go back to him and married him properly so we could be a real family.” Yet when the grey orbs softened as in reminiscing memories, Thorin couldn’t help but ache in sympathy. Of course, having family of their own was everyone’s dream. It’s also Thorin’s dream to take his hobbit hand into a marriage and be happily ever after just like in romantic lore and poems.

“So you missed him?” Instead turning away and left Arathorn, Thorin guessed solemnly for he knew it exactly how it felt to fall in love and cursed with longing.

The man let out an exasperated sigh. “Very.” he answered gruffly. “We’ve never really separated, you know. This quest is killing me. And then there’s you.” the man laughed dryly, “I can’t explain this but I just hate you, master dwarf…” Thorin surprised to see how the man really meant it by the flaming glare suddenly addressed to him, “I hate you.”

 

At this point, Thorin didn’t know what to say anymore. He was speechless to be hated bluntly and with no reason. He only nodded in silent respect and then asked Oin to return to the house with him. When he saw Gandalf sat by the window while smoking pipe, he had an urge to ask about the mad ranger. However, Frerin and Ori approached him and asked if he’s okay. The dam even passed him a chamomile tea as Dori took liberty making for everyone.

He took an empty seat right in front of Dwalin and Dain who fixed him a stern yet amused look. Must laughed hard for his bleeding nose, they were. Mahal blessed Thorin to have prats as cousins.

 

“What?” He glared.

 

“I think he’s charmed someone’s lady again.” Dain randomly guessed.

 

“I hope it’s not nearly like how he made Legolas of Lasgalen high over heels at him.” Dwalin grinned wide, “ah just how lucky our company to be escorted through Greenwood right till the Forest Gate, by the Princess herself.”

 

“Shut up!” Thorin bellowed. “I don’t know this guy or any lady involved with _him_! And stop matchmaking me with Thranduil’s daughter!”

 

“Why not?” Frerin came to sit by next to him, absently added coal into his burning fire. “She seemed happy to have you went grumpily proper on her, and you’re quiet handsome too, brother. Why don’t try courting her? Father must be ecstatic with your union. It’ll make our alliance stronger and you’ll be welcomed home grandly.”

Thorin eyed Frerin in disbelief.

It’s a common knowledge around his company that Thorin hated Elf in general. It only get worse when Thranduil of Greenwood interfered with their quest at Mount Gundabad and took the pleasure killing Scatha the Wingless, after Thorin and his company spent months spying and set traps around the nest. The Elven King reasoned that _he_ happened to be around and tried to _help_ their ally, since it took so long for Thorin to finish off the beast.

So why did he must court an Elven Princess now? And why it has to be Thranduil’s only daughter, on the top of all? If Thorin couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with Thranduil, how he would survive the rest of his life having the said vain Elf King as Father-In-Law?!

 

“Hey, dwarf.”

Suddenly, Arathorn was back into the house and talked straight to Thorin. “You might want to see this.”

Despite the irritation for the insulting tone in Arathorn’s voice, Thorin got up from his seat and followed the man to the border of the forest. Watching the ranger tracing the leaves and tracking for prints, Thorin held his tongue from any sarcastic retort which tried to escape his mouth. Instead, he studied at how careful the man when stepping with the tall body and full geared armor. “I found wargs track.” Said the ranger quietly, “they’re just passed this forest and headed west at the gate to Goblin Town. If we followed them now, we’ll meet up with them at the riverside.”

“Then let me gather my company.”

“There’s no time.” Arathorn unsheathed his sword. “We must go now.”

Thorin was hesitated. He never hunted alone and this impulsive plan might as well end with them committing suicide. But he couldn’t also left this stupid ranger chasing a pack of orcs alone so he grasped his axe and nod readily.

 

“Ah, wait a moment.” Thorin watched Arathorn pull out a vial and smeared the liquid around face and neck, before the man offered it to Thorin. “Here. This will disguise your scent.”

“What is this?” Thorin asked suspiciously.

“It’s a fragrance made of various weeds and herbs… it cover up your scent.” Yet as Thorin caught a sniff, his nostril flared and he groaned lowly at the sudden pour of memory. This is the same scent he whiffed from his hobbit hair and sweat. It flustered his face and watered his eyes at how deep the longing clawed in his heart. He knew the Ranger gave him a questioning look over the frown on his face, so with now trembled hands he poured the scent on his palm and began coating his face and neck and even run them on his hair, almost had urge to moan in agony because he missed his hobbit so badly.

Reluctantly, he returned the bottle to Arathorn. He wanted to keep it, but it might sound weird to ask.

“Let’s go.” Arathorn tucked the vial back into the pocket and then began their hunt.

 

…………………………………………………

 

Thorin might shake his head in embarrassment if he remembered again about today. It’s all started when they found Orcs camp beneath a small cave. From their hiding, Thorin counted the orcs and began forming a plan on how they will strike and where they started. However, when he’s about to turn to share his thought with Arathorn, the said ranger suddenly came out and shouted battle-cry which startled the orcs. It’s very clever, the element of surprise caught the orcs unready and they ended scattered around in panic instead fighting back, but it was also very reckless, because Thorin didn’t count the rest of orcs hiding in the cave and they ended fighting back-to-back, surrounded by more.

 

And then they also met Azog.

 

The Pale Orc was a giant in size and mounted a _giant_ white warg, like both were created to be a perfect match-made of a fearful terror. When they looked into the icy grey eyes, it felt like the air around them suddenly dropped low and chilling both males to the bones, fed their veins with nervousness and dread.

At the surface Azog looked cold and composed. The appearance was rather clean and less ‘orc-ish’ than _his_ minions. There’s grace in the gesture -like a noble- with bare shoulders broaden and back straightened instead slumped. It’s really strange orc, and even stranger because there’s no bellow and no shout coming from _him_. No fear or anger shown, the orc only stared at Arathorn and Thorin in silent judgment, let the lesser charged at them at all once. Of course, Thorin answered such challenge by slashing every rotten skin and stabbed as many soulless hearts as he could get. Soon, the ground around them covered in black blood and corpses, and slowly the distance between them and the pale orc shortened.

It only a second after Arathorn beheaded an orc before his blade met with Azog’s hammer. The two forces created a clanking sound through the graze of metals. In power, Azog was unbeatable. But Arathorn was swift in his sword play and knew how to slice irritating cuts here and there while dodging the hit. The Ranger was strong and stubborn to be able forcing the orc to dismount, yet Azog cunningly ordered his ride to ambush Arathorn by jumping at the man’s blind side. Just in time, Thorin threw himself between the beast and the ranger and slashed his axe right at the warg’s face. The beast whined in pain, blood trickled at open gash on its eye yet the wound immobilized the creature. It growled at him and Thorin growled back, no matter how childish it probably looked.

Of course, his action didn’t go unnoticed by Azog, and whether there’s bond between the warg and its rider or Azog simply hated to have no back up plan, the creature now turned attention to him and tried to put the same wound on his face though the hammer might crushed him flat. So, by using his height, Thorin ducked and moved under Azog’s swinging arm before he raised his axe and cut the arm.

 

“AAAARGHHHHHH!” It might be the only thing he didn’t regret doing today. And he was ready to aim for the head next, if Azong not instantly retreated with the remaining minions, leaving Thorin and Arathorn in the middle of orcs’ messes, now the fatigue kept up with them, turned their breathing harsh and their body ached.

 

“Azog must hate you so much after this.” Arathorn grumbled lowly in between gritted teeth. “Why don’t you aim his heart anyway? It’ll save us all trouble from getting his revenge later.”

 

Thorin furrowed his eyebrows. Why he regretted it now to save this stupid man’s life?

 

“He would die eventually.” Thorin answered grimly. _Hopefully_.

 

Yet the ranger cursed and when Thorin looked up, Arathorn was bleeding from a dagger wound thrusting on the back.

 

“…Bilbo is going to kill me…” and that’s the last thing _he_ said before the ranger dropped into unconsciousness.

 

…………………………………………………

 

“I thought you are better than this!”

 

Thorin pierced his gaze at the wooden wall as he heard Gandalf bellowed to whiny Arathorn, suddenly find interest in the architecture of this house. No, of course it has no relation with Gandalf’s shadow which now growing twice and seeped eeriness into everyone’s chest. He’s not afraid of Gandalf, and would only admit he felt a bit guilty for tagging along with the stupid ranger instead asking for back up. He defended himself as ‘someone to watch over a crazy folk’.

But of course, the rage was also made sense when the wizard saw Thorin returned to Beorn’s by dragging the unconscious ranger, “ambushed a pack of warg-riders just by two of you, huh?! Just how foolish you could be?”

“Enough with the scold, Gandalf.” Arathorn moaned. “I’ll just get it wrapped then I’ll be just fine.”

“You should be grateful, Arathorn.” Gilraen sat behind the ranger back, stitched the wound after cleaning it up and applied the grounded herbs to prevent infection, “If Bilbo was here, you’ll be as good as dead.” She said grumpily.

 

Thorin furrowed his eyebrows, yet when Ori asked Gilraen, “is this Bilbo really scary?” Thorin startled as he was about to ask the same.

  
"Ah." he saw Ori cringed when Arathorn scoffed lowly though it was addressed to the pain, not her. “He’s seven feet tall and twice bulky than your friend there.” The ranger pointed at Dain and whether it was true or not, it was enough to make Ori dazed in shock and rewarded Arathorn by a hard smack at the back of _his_ head. “Ouch, you had no manner to tend sick.” The man grumbled to Gilraen.

“You’re not sick you’re stupid.” Gilraen retorted, before she turned at Ori and her voice softened, “don’t listen to him Ori. Bilbo was from a very gentle kin with a genuine heart and-umph!” but Arathorn already tackled her, prevented her from more talking, “what the-…!”

 

“Don’t talk about someone’s wife that way!”

 

“He’s not your wife, dimwit!”

 

“Bilbo, hmm…” when Thorin decided he should just wash up and went to sleep, he heard Frerin whispered thoughtfully while brushing _his_ beard, “I’m sure I’ve heard the name before…” For a while, Thorin waited his brother in wait but soon his interest diminished and so he left.

 

In the next days, Gandalf invited the dwarves to join _his_ journey back across the Misty Mountains. The Wizard will go to Rivendell to seek counsel with Lord Elrond, _again_. “Thanks to your leader and the foolish Chieftain of Ranger, I need to inform the council about this event and performed a future plan to take down Azog. Knowing his life threatened, Azog would hide for only Valar knew where and would definitely prepare for counter attack. You’ve had to be careful Thorin. If he found out who are you, your family and your people will be in grave danger.”

 

“That’s why I told him to not leave the orc alive.” Arathorn grumbled lowly on his mount.

 

“This is your fault in the first place!” Gandalf hit the man with the tip of the staff, still holding grudge to the Ranger’s thoughtless act. If the upcoming future gave him no dread, Thorin might snort and laughed at the Ranger’s misery. _He_ deserved it, really.

 

“So, are you going with us?” Arathorn asked him lowly, somehow the voice was heavy and reluctant. “To Rivendell?”

 

Thorin paused for long, thinking every possibility to travel with the ranger. Truthfully, he should go back to Erebor to share the news about Azog to his father, so the King could be cautious about any future danger. _Maybe_ , maybe if he was back with such big news, Thrain will forgive him from not fulfilling his silly quest and let him entered Erebor’s Halls again. But he was uncertain, and so he eyed his company, “then I’ll send all of you back to Erebor.” His words immediately answered by shouts and growls of protests from his brother and friends, “I’ll be going on my personal quest anyway and you’ll have better use in Kingdom. Frerin, you shall tell father about Azog. Dwalin and Nori, you will spread the news to our allies, and Dain, you better return home, cousin, it has been years since you were back to Ironhill. The rest of you shall participate in preparation for battle.”

“But Thorin-!”

“My decision is final.” Thorin deadpanned and his company silenced, “I’ll go past Misty Mountains and inform our ally in Ered Luin.”

“This is so unfair.” Frerin scoffed.

Balin stared at Thorin warily, “at least bring someone with you, Thorin. You’re a bloody prince, for Mahal sake!”

“Let me then.” Bofur raised a hand, “I’m no use with these battle-related things and I’m really just a free-spirit so let me watch over Thorin.” The musician grinned widely. Thorin took Bofur into consideration, before he nodded and returned at Gandalf, “Me and Bofur will join your company.”

“Then I’ll lend you a pony each.” Beorn grumbled and Thorin nodded in thankful, couldn’t really address words when such beastly man towered next to him. “Make sure you kept them alive during journey.”

“I will.” Thorin replied sternly.

 

*

 


	7. Well Met

*

  


“Bilbo, they’re back.”

  


Still in the middle of winter, Bilbo dared himself to travel by the low and abandoned tunnels beneath Goblin Town to the Ranger post at Carrock. It’s a lone stone tower shaped in howling beast and surrounded by Anduin River. From the top, ancient-made rocky stairs climbed down into a big cave where the ranger had their guarding posts, living chambers and storage. The stairs ended in a big hall which often used to hold meeting and feast and… to tell the truth Bilbo didn’t care to explain more right now, as Elias arrived by his room and tell him the three scouts were back from the Wild.

  


“How far?” He asked back.

  


“They’re crossing the river now.”

  


Bilbo followed Elias out and climbed downstairs. Of course, none of these stairs were made for hobbit legs, but after years training he managed to step down without actually rolling like a ball. Many times he heard his father said in the corner of his mind, telling him how a hobbit wasn’t created to be around high place. Often he only smiled, knowing that if Bungo was still alive, then the old hobbit might turn very cross at him in his current life-style.  


  


“There are dwarves with them.”

  


His smile faltered and Bilbo almost slipped from his next step when he heard it. Oh, dear heart why suddenly beating so loud and harsh? They’re _just_ dwarves, it’s not like _he_ will coincidentally come into this place and found him. _‘It has been years ago, he might as well forget about_ me.' Bilbo frowned.' _Wait! What if he didn’t? What if he recognized me? What should I do? Should I tell him about Darin?’_ Bilbo clenched his palm to calm his inner rants. Suddenly his stomach pulsated in nausea, suddenly it was hard to breath and suddenly Bilbo spun around, climbed up and high until he reached the top of the tower.

Cold wind from the Misty Mountains brushed his hair and chilling to his very bones. But he did nothing about it, only stared at the borderless sky and the beautiful aerial view of the Wild, Greenwood forest and Erebor, the lonely mountain where his dwarf belonged.

He never liked Carrock. He’d rather stayed at their post in Weathertop. The first time he stood here and looked at Lonely Mountain, his heart collapsed and he just want to cry. From here, Erebor looked so close, as if he should just stretch his hand and be there. It gave him hope and demanded him to ride into the wild and the forest because the mountain was just _there_ , after Esgaroth and hiding right behind the city of Dale.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Bilbo sighed. Yet he couldn’t just cower from any dwarf he ought to meet. It’ll be no difference than passing by dwarf caravans on his scouting job. So he began climbed down, ignoring the loud thump at each step he took. When he reached the corner of his room, Bilbo paused at the shadow of man from the dimmed cave and slowly he entered, “Arathorn?” he called softly.

  


“I apologized.”

  


The shadow belonged not to Arathorn or any man, Bilbo scowled as he saw the back of a tall dwarf with long dark hair stood in the corner, washing in front of the basin while grumbling lowly, “Arathorn said I could use this room.” Bilbo didn’t even realize he dug his claws into the stone wall. How needy he was to hold onto any strong foundation to support his trembling heart. He took a sharp gasp and almost dropped on his weak knees. Arathorn… his mind groaned, Oh by Yavanna he will definitely have a long talk with his stupid leader after this! He meant how Arathorn even dared…! And… and led this… dwarf… right into his room!

  


He really should wait in Rivendell.

  


…………………………………………………

  


“Arathorn?”

  


A soft and lulling whisper paused Thorin from splashing his face with cold and fresh water. He blinked, almost turned and looked up to see the owner of this voice. It’s so familiar but it also impossible to hear it when he’s far away from Shire. So he shook his head and muttered his apology while continued his washing. His inner mind cursed Arathorn for lending him random room and now the owner must be cautious to see stranger dwarf invaded in with no permission.

There’s a handkerchief flipped neatly near the basin, but knowing he was imposing someone’s private place, Thorin didn’t use it and instead turn to express again his apology. Yet his words hung in the air and his mind simply turned blunt to see a mop of curly auburn hair and wide-eyed hazel orbs from the one hobbit who cursed him with love.

  


Thorin froze.

  


Long maybe they stood there, judging each other in such awkward and cold silence.

  


“It’s you.” The hobbit began with a heavy sigh. It startled Thorin from daze and brought his step to close their distance, but he eventually stop before his lust and desire took over his mind. Only Mahal knew what kind of mischief he could bring to the hobbit with his sanity at the brink of extinction. So he only gasped for a breath and returned the words as a low growl.

  


“It’s you.”

  


There’s another long pause.

  


“Uhh…” at least until the smaller kin winced and Thorin watched as the hobbit stopped grasping the stone and examined now bruising fingertips. “I… ah… I’ll be…” the hobbit stepped to enter the room, hesitant for sure with him standing in the middle of it, so Thorin moved away to a side and again followed the small figure which now standing in front of the basin. He was about to give up and waited in a place where both of them didn’t have to suffer the thick atmosphere and the unbearable silence, yet the hobbit murmured, “I… I’m sorry.”

Thorin scrunched his face in confusion. He wanted to ask _‘for what?’_ but he decided to wait until the hobbit turned and now pouted at him, “I… I just left.” Said the beauty with now a long sigh, “I knew it’s improper, I don’t even know your name. But you know, we hobbits… we don’t usually sleep around and it’s my first time and I’m so young and scared… and you’re very handsome and… and you’re a dwarf, I’ve heard your people really strict with relationship and… and…”

  


“My name is Thorin.”

  


Where he found this sudden ease? Why his heart suddenly lightened? He didn’t know and wasn’t willing to find out how he could just accept blurt of words from a nervous hobbit. He just inched closer. Surely now he could manage it to stand right in front of the beauty or looking straight into the sparkling hazy eyes without afraid pushing the lad to the wall and just have his way in, harsh and raw. “What’s yours, _treasure_?”

  


…………………………………………………

  


Sweet Yavanna, his heart will leap out his mouth! They’re too close, the dwarf was way too close and too comfortable around him and Bilbo was still in the corner of his chamber and could barely escape from this sudden intimacy! And what’s with the husky whisper and really? Sweet talked him in khuzdul? As if he’s not swooned enough to have those deep blue eyes fixed on him!

First, he’s not a teenager anymore. Second, he’s a mother. Third, he’s a Ranger of Dunedain, so he shouldn’t just stand gaping with blush covering his face and ears! And please Bilbo, stop stuttering you silly hobbit!

“I…I’m… Bilbo Baggins…” He attempted to stretch a hand in greet, missed the change in Thorin’s expression when he was too focus managing his harsh breathing. Please don’t faint here! He was far from **_that_** kind of hobbit now! “I… I’m sorry I think I’ll just need to…” No. He can’t face Thorin, not when his knees were utterly weak. “I need to sit.” And so Thorin moved aside –again- to give him space and let him slumped on his bedroll, “um, I’m sorry but can we talk again later? I’m going to…” and so he just drifted into darkness.

  


*

  


“So you know about me and Bilbo.”

  


When Arathorn came into the room and saw Thorin sat across sleeping-or fainting- Bilbo, the man silently checked on Bilbo’s pulse and then stayed close to the hobbit while brushing the auburn locks fondly. It rouse jealousy to swell in Thorin’s chest, because he believed that’s _his hobbit_ and he appreciated it much to have no else than him touching the boy. Yet it also sparked realization in him, answered his confusion about the dark gaze in Beorn’s house and the hatred addressed only to him.

“So what?” Arathorn shrugged.

It explained the anger and the jealousy. To Bilbo, he could be simply a dalliance in the past with no relationship built in between them. “But it doesn’t explain the hate.” He muttered again. It’s him who should hate Arathorn to gain such place near his beloved one. It was his right to lay a punch into the man’s face for snatching away Bilbo from him and not the otherwise.

  


Maybe love was a curse after all.

  


“You don’t have right to know my reason.” the man spat coldly.

  


“Then why did you bring me here?” Thorin couldn’t stand it anymore. He hissed angrily, and by Mahal one more brush touching his Bilbo, he’ll jump at the man and chopped the rest of those damned fingers, “Why you led me into his room?!”

  


“Our room.” Arathorn corrected him and that’s it. Thorin shouted his rage and charged at the man. It only need a flinch for the man to shift from the unconscious hobbit and soon they brawled, smacking and punching each other mercilessly, kicking over the furniture and leaving trace of blood from Arathorn’s re-opened wound. They didn’t even stop growling and struggling as passing rangers rushed in separated both males which suffered bruised face and chapped lips.

  


“I’m gonna kill you!” Thorin cried out. “How dare you…!”

  


“ENOUGH!”

  


Gandalf seemed had bad luck with having Thorin and Arathorn in the same room. The wizard often lost _his_ calm around the chieftain, now his headache seemed getting worsened with the addition of easily taunted Thorin.

“So noisy…” the source of this dramatic love story woke up with a groan. Bilbo blinked to erase the sleep away, just to see the messed furniture and bruised Arathorn and Thorin and, “is that blood on the floor?” _he_ cringed in disgust.

“Bilbo…” Thorin called.

Hearing his voice made the hobbit jumpy. For a moment, Bilbo eyed him in silence, before Gandalf broke it by asking the hobbit to fetch some water and tend Arathorn wound. “It probably re-opened again.”

“Shut it Gandalf don’t tell him anything!”

“Re-opened?” Bilbo furrowed his eyebrows and Thorin could see the content face turned darker and edgy. “Wait… You!” and the hobbit growled while pointed at the Chieftain, “Strip! Now!”

“No, I’m okay. It’s just a scratch.”

“STRIP! NOW!”

  


Arathorn groaned. And it didn’t lessen the jealousy to bubble in Thorin’s chest. Here he watched his beloved one shared worry and wrath to someone else. His _One_ worried over a _man_ and shared a _life_ with the said fool! Thorin tried hard to breathe out his frustration but to be here suffocated him. He needed to get out, before he burst out and kill himself out of impulse.

However, when he stood and quietly made his way out, Bilbo suddenly called him.

  


“Please, will you stay?”

  


So he could witness all those affection and love in the air and put more tortures into his heart cause it’ll never mean for him?!

  


“Let me tend to your wound.” Bilbo said again and so Thorin dropped to sit, eyes pierced at the open door. The crowds cleared and Gandalf gave him one last –disappointed- look before the wizard also disappeared from the door.

 

“Where’d you get this?” He heard Bilbo murmured softly.

“You don’t want to k–ouch- in Orc encampment.” There came breathy answer from Arathorn.

“How’d you get there?”

“Long stor-Argh!- Fine! I’ll tell you. Stop poking me with that blasted needle!”

“You deserved it, dimwit.”

 

Thorin cleared his throat. He really wished to leave, yet when he took a glance and saw Bilbo looking at his direction, his heart throbbed in excitement and his face swelled in proud happiness as if it was possible after so much mental stabs scarred him. Apparently he managed to stay alive even after witnessing a shy smile tearing Bilbo’s angelic face. Mahal, Arkenstone turned as boring as coal next to Bilbo’s radiant beauty! Screw his quest! He didn’t care if he could only living in Dale for the rest of his life, as long he got to wake up next to Bilbo each morning and having to embrace Bilbo each night.

He must look so dumbstruck right now, because Arathorn caught his softened expression and threw him a warning glare.

He glared back.

“Why are you quarreling all of sudden?” Clueless Bilbo asked, eyeing Thorin warmly before poking Arathorn in the arm, “I’ve never seen you look so agitated.”

“That’s his fault.” Arathorn grumbled. “He charged on me first. I’m just protecting my dignity.”

“And you’re well-known with your provocation.” Bilbo sighed as the hobbit put clean wrap around the man.

“I prefer it as my seductive charm.” To have someone so delicate and adorable fussed around _him_ slowly diminished the tension in the man’s face and Arathorn began smiling sheepishly. “You know me well for that.”

“Quiet you. Go lay and rest. ” Bilbo finished the wrap. Then, the hobbit wet the handkerchief and approached Thorin while Arathorn slowly got up with a groan and moved towards the bed. It twitched Thorin’s eyes, to recall again how Arathorn and Bilbo shared this room and how he loathed imagining the hobbit, _his hobbit_ , had to bed such huge pervert.

  


He groaned lowly.

  


“I’m sorry, is it hurt?” Thorin almost forgot Bilbo was kneeling in front of him, tending to his bruise.

“No.” He answered. No physical pain matched with the open gash now bleeding in his heart. "I'm fine. Just go on." And so Bilbo smiled and continued the mend, while Thorin roamed his gaze at the lithe figure, almost moaned at the rich scent of grass and earthy musk, almost raised his hand to wrap the beauty into his open arms.

  


Mahal, they’re so close.

  


“Are you…” at least he could confirm the relationship between the man and his hobbit, “and him…”

  


“Yes.” lazy murmur came from Arathorn.

  


“I’m not asking you!” There’s an apple rolling close to Thorin and the said apple almost pierced at the man’s skull if Bilbo didn’t catch his wrist. As in slow motion, Thorin turned to face the hobbit and let the silent haze seeped in between them again, until Bilbo tugged him to stand and silently bring him outside the room. Enchanted, Thorin followed the smaller kin climbing up the stairs. They passed rooms and tunnels until they arrived at the top. Just then, Bilbo released his hand and took a deep breath before looked up at him and smile. “Look.”

  


The hobbit pointed at the North-East and Thorin’s gaze immediately fixed on a single mountain across the Wild and Forest, “Erebor.” He muttered longingly.

  


“The lonely mountain.” Bilbo said, “It is where you come from, right?”

  


Thorin nodded absently.

  


“I could go there, ask around about you. Maybe with Darin it’ll be easier…” the hobbit pursed his lips in halt, before shook his head and continued, “I could still find you, or tried to. But I don’t want to.”

  


“Why?”

  


Bilbo smiled, “I’m afraid to hope.”

  


Just like Thorin, who tried hard to think about this love as a curse, yet he was only caught deeper and fell harder into the spell of a hobbit. In fact, there’s no curse aside his own judgment and his own denial to claim a priceless joy. If not for his stupid pride, he might follow the hobbit in his awakening. He might stay around Shire and asked about his hobbit whereabouts. But he was drowned in anger and embarrassment so he decided to move on into his quest and spent months brooding about a broken heart, thus as the season change and year passed, the only way to bear the pain was to believe Thorin was cursed.

“So do I.” He closed their distance by standing next to Bilbo, both facing his homeland with content smile on each face. This wasn’t what he expected when he met again his hazel-eyed hobbit. He dreamed to find the beauty behind the round door while the green rolling hill from the most peaceful neighborhood surrounded them. However, despite it was shocking him to know Bilbo was a ranger and may-or-may-not had dalliance with a certain git, he finally could say his curse was lifted.

  


*

  



	8. Warmth in Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the mushrooms definitely made up

*

 

“I don’t understand why you had to provoke him.”

 

Arathorn lounged on the chair, smoking pipe at the guard station when Bilbo entered the room. His face was pulled in blank mask but to tell the truth he was concerned at the way Arathorn behaved around Thorin.

“I don’t understand why I can’t.” Arathorn shrugged.

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, he couldn’t blame the source of hatred. If emotions affected him in Men’s way, he might be breaking down already the time he was back in Hobbiton. He would definitely blame his bad luck to Thorin by giving up his life and let Sackville-Baggins dictated his future. But he didn’t. He didn’t hate his dwarf for the one beautiful night they share, or the unrequited love which lingered afterwards. He didn’t mourn for his son. He accepted his fate and then fought his way out of the misfortune. “I don’t hate him. I can’t help if you do but please stop antagonizes him just because he’s not there for Darin.”

 

“A father should take care of its family.” Arathorn said sternly. “He’s not a father.”

 

Bilbo sighed. “Yet he’s also suffered the loneliness and shared the same pain with mine.” Bilbo was no Men, he wouldn’t understand why he should think Thorin neglected him and Darin. “He didn’t even know I’m a bearer. I left, remember? It was also my fault.”

Now Arathorn turned completely to stare at him. “You left because you’re scared. If you are his dear, then why doesn’t he chase you? Why he's not there when you suffered? I knew, because I listen to your sob every time your lust hit and whatever you did to yourself brought no salvation and only shame. I knew how eager Darin to get more love and attention, how he clung to me so tight every time I tucked him to bed, and that’s not because you’re _not_ a great father, Bilbo. He can’t just live with one.” Bilbo sure he was pouting sulkily -because Aragorn did make a point- and it didn’t help when the man raised a hand and messed with his auburn curls, “If it’s not for Darin, I might tolerate him returned into your life. But I won’t acknowledge his right upon you and Darin if it was proven that he didn’t deserve it.”

“oh, Arathorn.” Bilbo couldn’t help but melt at the words and smile, “you’re over-protective bastard.”

“You are working for me, Bilbo.” The man returned smoking his pipe, somehow his expression turned playful, “therefore you are mine.”

 

*

 

In winter, there’s not much duty to take around the post. In fact, the post usually abandoned save for a very few numbers of Rangers because the forest went into hibernation phase and there’s so little activity to do. There’s only Bilbo and four other rangers stayed with the guests while the rest of team sailed –they’ve raided a nice ship from the pirates- to their post at Emyn Muil, where the winter didn’t hit the land as harsh as in the Northern.

On a chilly morning, Bilbo went to scout the riverside, seeking if there’s any winter-shroom hidden beneath the snow, and definitely not because he couldn't stand lingering around the tower. _No, I’m not avoiding Thorin_ , he chided himself. True they reached an _understanding_ at the Carrock Top but then both could also sense the awkwardness in between them. It was stung to know they _hoped_ for each other, because then what to do? Should they try to _be_ in love? Should Bilbo jumped into conclusion and _jumped_ Thorin, wrapped the dwarf into a tight embrace and lips locking? No, that would be weird! Whatever this love stood for, they just share a night and they’re not even sober to begin with!

Bilbo hadn’t even think a good way –or right time- to come up with explanation of the bless of Yavanna and the existence of Darin. And by Valar what if Thorin couldn’t accept it? What if Thorin saw him as a monster? What if Thorin rejected Darin?!

“I’m screwed.” He stuffed his face into his hands.

 

“Mind if I join?”

 

The deep voice startled him, twisted his stomach in an unpleasant knot when he turned to see Thorin. He drew a small smile in greet but said nothing and only nod slightly before he walked further into the woods. “I’m searching for mushrooms.” He explained just so they’ve had something to talk about. “There are some edible varieties of winter-shroom around here, though nothing beats Shire’s truffles, the autumn was always my favorite season both because of truffles hunting and my birthday.” He chattered, slightly be at ease to have nonsense talk about his homeland, “But the stone-shroom in the goblin tunnel is surprisingly edible, despite their tough look. I took many on my way here and put some into our omelet and cream soup.” He looked at his back to check if Thorin was still following and he found himself smiling at the curious blue orbs looking back into his.

“There’s this popular winter-shroom, we called it Glow Orbs. I hope I could find it today.”

 

“Why are you not in Shire?”

 

Bilbo halted. He was unsure what to tell and so he quietly said, “You wanted to know why I become a ranger?”

 

“I guess that’s where my question goes.” Thorin caught up with him and now standing by his side and looking at him. “I mean, I’ve been informed that hobbits aren’t built as travelling folks.”

 

“They are.” Bilbo pursed his lips, holding the gate to the flood in his heart, because this closeness began torturing him with rapid heartbeat and the scent of Thorin brought back memory of their night, as if it was just happened yesterday. It didn’t help him to contain his feels when Thorin fixed a fierce gaze at him, silently commanded him to look back. “I’m different... wait, not only me,” He shook his head, smiling at the image of his Took cousins distracting him from Thorin. “I’m a descendant of Took –an old family in Shire- and there is tale around others that due to our ancestry affair with fairy, sometimes one of Took had this queer need of traveling.” He finally glanced at Thorin and let his smile grew into a beaming one, “so here I am.”

“That explained why you’re not in Shire.” Thorin raised both eyebrows, showing more interest, “But why you’re a ranger remains a mystery still.”

“Be patient.” Bilbo patted Thorin on the arm and then surprised at how easy he showed his affection, after went through difficult self-argument of ‘what to do with Thorin from now on’. Maybe he should just stop thinking too much.

They walked again, though sometimes Bilbo would bend at the tree roots to swipe away snow, in hope he could find the said mushroom. “It’s a long story.” Bilbo said in the end. True, it was the same by telling the dwarf about everything and Bilbo wasn’t just ready to share.

 

“I’m on a quest, you know.” Thorin suddenly said.

 

“Hmm?” Bilbo found a couple of Ice-shrooms. It’s not edible as food, but it made even the stalest ale tasted divine. “What kind of quest?”

Thorin stared at him intensely, before the dwarf smiled, “Nevermind. It’s a long story.” muttered the dwarf in amusement, and sure it feed Bilbo with a rage from the suspicion and eager curiosity. Damn, he only itched MORE to know about it.

“Are you teasing me?” Bilbo scoffed as he stomped forward, leaving Thorin a few steps behind.

“Well, are you available for teasing?” the dwarf asked back in low, calculating tone, although the joy stayed in Thorin’s gaze. “Last time I ask about your relationship with your Chieftain, your answer is hardly confirming. In fact, you don’t answer me at all.”

Bilbo turned at Thorin, “Can’t you see? There’s nothing between me and Arathorn.” he retorted annoyingly. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t have obligation to explain myself to you.” And as much as he hated it, this was true. Loving was easier to speak than done and so Bilbo didn’t want to hurt himself with empty promises. He’s already broken with his unrequited love -despite he knew it’s not unrequited anymore. But knowing both were in love wasn’t enough. They’re also need to decide whether this will work or not.

“You don’t have to be so offended.” Thorin answered and though it made sense, there’s something in the tone which set Bilbo into unnecessary fury. “I don’t mean to make you _obliged_ to sense my feeling.”

“I know.” Bilbo sighed. “I’m just being a prat. I’m sorry I don’t mean to snap.”

“I’m aware that you’re afraid because I felt the same.” Thorin walked at him and lifted his face –since when he tucked his gaze down?- so their eyes met again, “But that won’t do good for me –for us I hope- because I want to know _everything_ about you, Bilbo, not only as someone I loved because _he’s beautiful_.” It was a cunning tactic of ambushing one’s heart. Thorin just use the keyword blatantly and then the stern mask on Bilbo cracked. It’s not even said in sweet tone, merely a state of truth. But it wrenched his heart and suffocated his chest that Bilbo needed to gasp and looked away as he replied,

 

“I don’t know.” Bilbo whispered out his frustration, “I can’t think right now.” He dared himself to look at Thorin again, “But I doubt you’ll think I’m beautiful after you know everything about me.” _And the secret I’ve kept from you_ , he added wryly.

 

…………………………………………………

 

“There.”

 

Thorin's attention distracted when Bilbo pointed at a small clearing in the middle of woods. He watched Bilbo approached the open space covered in white and bend to fetch a lone white mushroom popped on the snow, “Glow Orbs.” Bilbo whispered while carefully pick it to show Thorin. It was as big as a plate and covered in crystallized ice, “it’s the most beautiful mushroom I’ve ever saw. These frost around the mushroom acted as shell, protecting the light-shroom inside from the cold temperature.” With that the hobbit cracked a side and Thorin could see the leak of light from inside, “Elves named it ‘Hidden-Star’.” His eyes twitched at mention of elf but Thorin merely ignored it when Bilbo brought a shining part to feed him with, “it has similar purpose with _Lembas_ , to satisfy one hunger with small bite while still tasted so divine.”

So he held the offered wrist, enough to gain a surprised gasp from the hobbit. Despite frowning, Thorin realized Bilbo was also blushing when he leaned down and wrapped his mouth around the bit of mushroom and sucking it out from the small fingertips. He couldn’t resist moaning when it tasted like the last summer feast he had in Erebor.

The mushroom brought old memories and homesickness along with great dream of desiring future. It wasn’t only _miraculously_ pleased his stomach, but it also reminded him the warmth of home, and his jaw hardened to think how Bilbo would fit to sit next to him, surrounded by his family and friends.

 

“How was it?” Bilbo asked a bit eager, “Is it taste good?”

 

“Yes, of course.” He answered. Still holding Bilbo, Thorin brought the fingertips to stay on his lips, before he licked each of them fondly just to watch how the smile faltered and the blush darkened from the flustering hobbit. “Although I think I want more.”

“Here, then.” Bilbo pushed the rest glow orbs onto his chest, “you can have it all so stop violating my fingers, you greedy dwarf.” The voice was coming out harsh yet the hazel eyes lit with amusement in which Thorin pulled Bilbo closer and placed a peck on the cold temple. Bilbo hissed at the touch, but Thorin hoped it merely because the crash between his eternal warmth and the hobbit’s chilling skin, and not because the wall of awkwardness in between them.

He was worried though to find Bilbo was so cold despite the thick layers of clothes and leather coat the ranger wore.

 

“I think we should go back.” He said and when Bilbo was about to retort, Thorin added with fake-threatening glare, “I’ll carry you back if I must. You’re as cold as ice, Bilbo.”

“It’s not my fault you are SO warm.” Thorin smiled at the way Bilbo snapped at him in jealousy. It was sinfully adorable, fluttered his skin in wants and fed his mind with inappropriate thoughts. “Why are dwarves had warm body anyway?”

“Because we are dwarves.” Thorin shrugged, before he chuckled when the hobbit hit him in the chest for stating the obvious. “It’s true. We’ve crafted from stone by Mahal and we’re created to work with fire and forge so our body had higher temperature.” He saw Bilbo was muttering something like, ‘that’s explain the temperament’ and though he was itched with the sarcasm, he only found himself got more fond of the younger brunette. And his boasting wasn’t over. “We’re also blessed by Mahal to be fireproof.”

“Hobbits are too, blessed by Lady Yavanna.”Bilbo gloated, but then stopped in the middle with face turned into dread. “Ah…” suddenly the expression was closed off, “I mean… it’s nothing.” Bilbo shook _his_ head. “You’re right, anyway. Let’s go back.”

“Bilbo.” He called softly. Bilbo didn’t answer, only looked at him in a bitter silence before walked to where they came from.

 

*

 

“Should I tell him the truth or let him finding out by himself?” Bilbo asked Gandalf as they sat on a bench, watching the stars from the long and narrow crack on the stone wall. It has been a week since he met Thorin. He appreciated the teasing, molesting, and even amused at the way Thorin and Aragorn shared cold glare and sometimes –witty remarks- about each other. Arathorn stopped trying to provoke Thorin with (un-existed) coupling between the man and Bilbo but declared that Thorin should stay away from Bilbo because a ranger should not have dalliance with outsider.

Not that it ceased Thorin from seeing Bilbo.

 

Gandalf snorted. “I don’t console love problem, my dear.”

 

“Yet you bring him here, right onto my face. Tell me, Gandalf. Do you know about him this entire time?”

 

"You don’t want to know if I _know_ him or not.”

 

_Wizard_. Bilbo cursed mentally. “Why he’s here, anyway?”

 

“He didn’t tell you?” Now Gandalf looked surprised, though it didn’t lessen the twinkle of blasted joy in the wizard’s eyes. “Then I could share nothing to you, Bilbo. It’s his right to explain about his quest to you, though I think he’ll be the one who get the most shocking –if not pleasant- surprise than you.” while Bilbo digested the words into his mind, Gandalf already laughed merrily and returned to watch the falling snow outside.

“I don’t understand.” Though Bilbo could guess, he decided to shake his head in clueless.

“You don’t have to, my dear friend.” Gandalf chuckled, “Time will tell when everything finally came into senses.”

 

*

 


	9. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the hits and kudos and hopefully you'll still enjoy reading!

 

*

 

Arathorn was right.

 

Bilbo would never get enough from his own crappy imagination to satisfy the lust. Some rangers offered to _help_ but Men didn’t understand that hobbits are faithful and loyal to their beloved. Hobbits shared hugs and chaste kisses to sweethearts but they didn’t sleep around just for pleasure. Even for Bilbo who was probably the most reckless hobbit ever lived, he loved Thorin of any obliviousness existed in this universe.

“Hhh…” Bilbo shuddered, cold from the strong wind at the top of the tower. When the heat kicked in, he left his shared bedroom with Arathorn and Elias (another reason why Thorin shouldn’t get jealous because they merely gathered in the same room to keep each other warm), before he climbed up and exposed his pain to the night. It’s like a battle between the built arousal versus the winter breeze, turning his face blue with the unbearable cold because touching will only wet his rear and having his release only prompted another heat to perform and tormented him more.

Somehow knowing Thorin was near bringing a better fantasy to feed his lust, though it still uncomfortable to deal it by himself. He could only drop his weight onto his knees and writhed as he dug his claws into his arms because he _really_ craved to be touched. He wanted Thorin to stop being gentle and slammed him to the harsh floor, so he could moan wantonly when his skin get bruised from the cold stone. He wanted his dwarf straddled him, twisted him and tied his wrist and ankles until he could only feel numbness. Until he could only feel Thorin whether it was the beautiful voice hummed through his groin, or the stone hard cock rammed into his hungry rear with no mercy, because he didn’t need gentleness. He wanted it hard and deep, straining his inner wall with protest and tearing him apart with ecstasy.

Bilbo breathed. He was wet, from both source of his pleasure. Thankfully, tonight he didn’t need to stay out for long. The chill and the fantasy reduced the heat so he could climb back down through the stairs and cleaned himself in the bath quarter, taking a moment to recover from the high and then made himself tea before he returned to his chamber.

 

“Hey.”

 

There was Thorin, sitting by the wall in one of the guard stations. Bilbo fixed himself with more layers of thick coat before he greeted the dwarf. Now his lust had being taken care of, he looked content as he took a seat next to the dwarf. Thorin shifted, invited him to lean close to share warmth and Bilbo accepted the invitation to bury himself into the living furnace. He expected to exchange some pleasantries and sharing words about trivia things. But Thorin wasn’t a talkative person to begin with and Bilbo was tired to do anything. He only watched the high and narrow window in front of them as Thorin hummed a song about the fire and dragon and a blessed kin.

Slowly, his mind drifted sleep and his dream contained about greedy dragon and an army of mighty dwarves marched out their mountain and forced the evilness to stay away from their land.

 

…………………………………………………

 

“Marry me.”

 

Not long after, Bilbo startled and to find the hobbit frowned made Thorin regretted his words. _It's too soon_ , he kept telling himself because indeed it was too early to announce his feeling while he promised to himself to go on slow and steadily pace so he could keep Bilbo from freaking out with his intention -his love- and running away from him. He was aware the hobbit was also loved him but he’s afraid their culture was too different that the concept of _One_ might terrify Bilbo. “I need you.” a dwarf, he was, and his kin would always straight to the point and rudely impatient when they did so. “I love you.” he pressed a kiss into Bilbo’s ear, deciding that if he’s going to screw this proposal, he better put all effort into it.

Bilbo shifted from his lap, but Thorin hoped the hobbit only sat just so they could talk properly. “Thorin…” the beauty began.

“It’s too soon, I know," Thorin cut in. "But I wasted five years to find you and I’ll be a fool to spend even a second more not courting you to be my Consort. It’ll be hard for both of us, this marriage, but I assured you it’s not because we’re from different kin…”

 

“Consort?” Bilbo scrunched his face, repeated the word in slight wary.

 

“Yes.” Unaware of the nervousness, Thorin took Bilbo smaller hand to entwine with his, tried to convince Bilbo what they felt between them is mutual and by Mahal Thorin didn’t care if he would never be a father as long as he could be with Bilbo. “My father, King Thrain, sent me on a quest to find a true love. At first, I think it was a bit silly, but then I meet you again and I realized you’re the _One_ , Bilbo. My _One_ and only.”

“That didn’t explain…” Bilbo whispered breathless, “let me say this straight. Are you trying to say…. Darin is… I mean, YOU are a Prince of Erebor?!”

“I thought Arathorn already told you that.” Thorin suddenly felt so dense, to found Bilbo stared at him grimly, “and it doesn’t matter. I am banished, because this _silly_ quest of mine also mentioned that I couldn’t go back to Erebor until I had children on my own.” He furrowed his eyebrows when Bilbo flinched as if he brought plague within his presence. “But I love a male-hobbit with all my might and I want to marry him, bond him forever as my husband. I don’t want any kid, Bilbo. I only want you.”

 

He thought, he said it right this time. He thought honesty worth everything, no matter how it embarrassingly hurt his pride.

However, it struck him to see Bilbo was terrified. It was hurt, and it set his jaw hard and his eyes stormed with disappointment. He couldn’t perform plan on what to say or what to do anymore. He could only absently run his hand on the hobbit’s cheek while pleading softly, “Please, Bilbo. I love you…”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Thorin was aware with the rejection, though he managed dismissing the thought before because it’ll only bring bad luck. Yet here he was, facing the real deal and he couldn’t help but dropped his hand and his head in defeat as he heard Bilbo sobbed. He didn’t understand why Bilbo had to refuse him and then crying for it. He was the one who supposed to cry. He was the one who supposed to drown in bitter love. However, no matter how he hated Bilbo’s words, he couldn’t hate the hobbit.

“Then, can I hold you tonight?” asked Thorin, “and the upcoming nights until the winter is over and I will really let you go? Because if I can’t have your heart, then at least let me have more memories of your beauty.” Though it won’t heal any thirst, won’t stitch any wound and won’t cover up the hollowness in his heart. Thorin will be condemned with unrequited and he shall suffered forever.

 

“No.”

 

Thorin felt his fist clenched and his face fumed in deeper shade of shame. It could easily turned into rage if Bilbo didn’t continue with, “you’re misunderstood, Thorin.”

 _Do you want to say there’s never been love for me in the first place?_ Thorin scowled. “Then explain to me, make me understand.”

 

“I’m a bearer.”

 

Of all Thorin ever learn about this strange world and its _strange_ folks, this was the strangest knowledge to be found out. Long he spent gaping at the rueful hobbit who spilled _his_ part of the tale about bless of Yavanna. “I was cursed. Ever since I decided to give myself to you, misfortunes followed my steps back home and ruined my life. But of course it was my fault and not yours. You don’t even aware I could conceive when you shared your seeds in me. I could at least warn you, but I’m so drunkenly in love despite you’re a stranger to me and to my kin…” the hobbit broke into another sob, “and then you only want me and not my child... how am I supposed to…”

“Wait.” Thorin halted. “Wait a moment.” He took a second to breathe again, and encouraged Bilbo to do the same because the hobbit was so close to fall into pieces.

“Hhh…” Bilbo sighed, before he looked into Thorin’s eyes and mewled again, “I love you… I was hoping this relationship to work, but I was also thinking how to tell you about Darin, and now you…” the hobbit cried, “oh my poor Darin…”

“Please…” Thorin groaned, “Please stop crying and explain to me clearly. Are you really…” he cleared his throat, refused to acknowledge the explosive of emotions swelled in his own stomach, “Bilbo.” He grabbed the hobbit in the shoulder, snapped Bilbo to focus looking at him.

 

“You had a son, Thorin.”

 

And that’s enough to blow up his mind.

 

*

 

A blond haired dwarf knelt before the throne, followed by his companion of cousins and friends. He was asked to come into the dais so the King could wrap him into a hug and questioned the whereabouts of his brother. “Is he waited in Dale?” asked Thrain, face strained but the blue eyes lit with playful interest. The blond answered him with a gentle smile, before softly spoke, “No, Adad. Brother didn’t come home with us. He's going on with the quest as you tasked him to but on our way, we’ve meet your friend Gandalf the Grey and now we must inform you about the _attempted_ Assasination of Azog the Defiler…”

Long the King spent in silence, listening to the second-born Prince tale and the fear they must prepared for the future. However, _he_ was concerned with Thorin’s decision to send back the company into the mountain. _How reckless_ , _he_ thought as the King eyed each of dwarrow and dam. If there’s one thing _he_ proud of Thorin, was that the Crown Prince’s ability to lead these hunters and bound them into unyielding loyalty, so to find _his_ son dismissed the company concerned Thrain with Thorin’s safety.

“Thank you for the news, Frerin. I’m going to discuss it more with our council. Now I hoped you don’t mind if I took over the task for the company.”

“As you wish, My King.” Frerin bowed, “We are expected to follow your command.”

“Then.” The King straightened _his_ back and cleared _his_ throat before eyeing the Company. “Except Frerin and Dain, I will send the rest of you to find Thorin to lead the company in scouting Khazad-dum.” Fear, confusion and unsettling emotions swirled in the air around the crowds and Thrain only let a moment to pass and continued the speech before any of them sounded their objection. Frerin especially seethed, and that was a surprise since Thrain knew how good-natured and calm _his_ second born was. “I know what you thinking. Khazad-dum was our ancient realm and everyone aware the demon who lived beneath our ancestor Halls. I won’t ask you to enter, just scouting the activity within the East and West Gate. If there is an orc pack headed to Moria, we should monitor their movement and finding their motives.”

 

“My King…” Frerin began, but Thrain interrupted.

“Balin, I trust you with message to your leader. Tell him to abandon his current quest and proceed to form a plan for this scouting job.” When Balin nodded in affirmative, the King eyed the silent Dain, “Dain, I hope you don’t mind but King Nain hoped you come home to your wife and son.” Dain said nothing despite the disagreement stormed in his eyes and then only bowed respectively.

“And you, Frerin…”

“I refused to stay behind, Adad.” The Prince said grimly. “It’s a dangerous quest. Our company functioned as thirteen dwarves and we couldn’t work to our best if you ask some of us to leave. We worked in pair. Dain fought side by side to Thorin just as me to Miss Ori.”

“I’m aware with how your team worked, Frerin.” Thrain whispered, “That’s why I substituted Dain and you with Fili and Kili.”

“But Adad!” as the whole hall turned into a chaotic frowns, Frerin began losing his patient and snarled, “You don’t think… they’re barely coming of age-!”

“Your Majesty.” Balin bowed deeply, “I don’t think throwing young Princes into our harsh world is a wise choice. there are many other experienced warrior-”

Thrain eyed the strategist sharply, “You are barely coming of age when you first go on journey within my sons, Balin son of Fundin.” It’s not the word which set Balin into a stiffened statue, but at the cold and menacing glare shot at the white-haired dwarf. “I think it’s a good opportunity for the Princes to begin learning about the world. Besides, I take it the rest of you will do your best to protect them.”

The hall slowly drifted into an unpleasant quietness. Nobody dared to speak for a while and so Thrain sat back and smiled genuinely. “Very well, then. I’ll take it you must need to recover for a few days, before you set on another journey. I hope you’ll reach Thorin before spring.”

 

As the company bowed and took their leave, Dain whispered to rigid Dwalin, “Thorin won’t like it.”

“Aye.” Dwalin sighed in defeat, “at least he won’t mope about that damn love quest for a while. His sourness is slowly killing us.”

“True.” Dain smirked. “Good luck babysitting the Princes, then, all three of them.”

Dwalin sighed again.

 *


	10. Son of Thorin

*

The pale light of morning sun shining through the narrow crack of the rocky wall, slowly but gradually touched the bundle of fur coats and blankets in a corner. It fluttered his eyes opened and for a moment Thorin blinked in haze as the memory of last night began pouring into him.

 

_‘You had a son, Thorin.’ Said the hobbit wryly, desperately, and Thorin could do nothing aside pulling a blank mask._

_He had a son._

_Isn’t that supposed to be grand news for he didn’t have to sacrifice his one for the other?_

_He loved Bilbo and Bilbo had his son._

_So what’s with the frown? What’s with the hollow gaze? Why he’s not just moved these numbing hands and wrapped Bilbo into a hug then showered the hobbit, his hobbit, with thousands year worth kisses? Right now, he was no more than a stupefied dwarf who expressed their joy with sourness and shared his excitement with hardened jaw. Even Bilbo could only waited for a moment before the hazel eyes dimmed and the grief kicked into_ his _senses. The hobbit slowly got up and then moved to leave him by himself._

_And he did nothing to stop Bilbo._

_‘I’m sorry.’ Bilbo muttered, ‘this is why I can’t be with you, Thorin. You wouldn’t want me if you know everything.’_

_No, that’s wrong. If Thorin could stop being a stupid statue he would say he’s very happy and that’s not only because he fulfilled his quest. He found a family on his way to find love. Because of Bilbo, he became a father and it’s foolish to reject a miracle casted upon him. Yes, at first he thought he was cursed to be left in the unknowing darkness and it indeed unfair for Bilbo to kept their son from his knowledge, but he’s not THAT stubborn and he admitted his own fault. If there’s someone to blame, it was him who used to be drowned in stupid pride and hatred._

_‘Wait.’ Before the small figure approached the door-less entrance of the guard room, Thorin halted_ him _with a low whisper, ‘please, stay.’ He clenched his palms because it sounded too harsh to be a plea, but after taking a judging glance at him Bilbo decided to turn and face him. Thorin opened his mouth, tried to lure Bilbo to come closer and possibly returned to his side but he didn’t want to push his luck. He even lost the trail of thought when he fixed his gaze on the green orbs which still clouded with worry and sorrow._

_‘What’s his name?’ He asked._

_‘It’s…’ Bilbo breathed in hesitation, ‘His name is Darin.’_

_Thorin mouthed the name, let it rolled in his tongue and kept it repeating in his mind like a mantra. It rouse his curiosity, it filled him with thirst to know for more. ‘How did he look?’ he was glad the question coming out nicer from his gruff voice. It eased the tense in Bilbo shoulder and made the hobbit shifted close and closer to his presence._

_‘He’s beautiful.’ Bilbo started with a smile and Thorin couldn’t help but fantasized about a faceless dwarfling popped as shadow of lights in between them, ‘he was born small, even smaller than normal hobbit baby. But I was being told dwarfling born small and even by that our baby was strong. His kicks were always hard and firm. His cry was loud and clear and his laugh was always full of mirth…’ Thorin was only fed by words but it was enough to make his heart drummed in anticipation and his face brightened into eagerness. ‘He looked like you, Thorin.’ A sharp hit of proudness made his cheeks burned and his eyes glassy, ‘it’s reflected from his gaze, his scowl, even his temper…’ Bilbo chuckled a bit and Thorin felt jealous with the last five years he missed from his son’s life._

_It also brought another question to escape his lips, ‘Did he know about me?’ Thorin cleared his throat for the bitterness he had to gasp out. Mahal, it was cold tonight but Thorin was sweating in nervousness for he was afraid to know the answer. He didn’t deserve Bilbo, he didn’t deserve to be a father, because the first thing he did after Bilbo left was nurturing grudge towards the hobbit who bore his heir._

_Now he understood why Arathorn hated him. He meant, who wouldn’t? He’s already hated himself!_

_‘He knew.’_

_Thorin was drowning in his own sorry thought that he didn’t sense Bilbo approached him and slowly knelt again to cup his face. He blinked in surprise but as soon his eyes met with the beautiful hazel ones, his heart melt. ‘I told him, because he deserved your love. It’s me gambling with his heart but I can’t find it’s nice if I told him you don’t know, or worse, to feed him with my worry about whether you will love us or disgrace us.’_

_Thorin gritted his teeth, ‘I won’t disgrace you, both of you, Bilbo. I love you.’_

_‘Will you love Darin too?’ Bilbo asked, ‘because you said you don’t need any son-…’_

_‘Don’t be stupid.’ Thorin grabbed the smaller fingers on his bearded face and grasped them within his trembling ones. He didn’t even care he was shivered in the mix of emotions, ‘I love you and the fact that you GAVE me a chance to be a father won’t change my love for you.’_

_‘Oh Thorin…’ Bilbo cracked a wide grin while in the same time flooded with tears. ‘I…’ even words left the auburn haired hobbit and forced Bilbo to deal with the feeling with no excuse to explain. Only choked sobs and apology managed to get out from the hoarse voice. Yet Thorin understood and demanded no more words, only leaned in to give Bilbo a loving kiss on the forehead while his hands wrapped around the shaking figure._

_He would forgive Bilbo for hiding about their son, if Bilbo would forgive him for his hate and negligence._

_‘Don’t cry…’ he ran his lips on the nose then trailed butterfly kisses on the damp eyes and cheeks, ‘don’t cry, Bilbo. I’m here now…’ **Wanting you, needing you, and loving you with all my might** , he promised as he tucked Bilbo deeper into a tight embrace, never again letting go._

 

“I thought you disappear in my sleep, and last night was just my another hopeless dream.”

When Bilbo entered the room with a tray of breakfast, he looked up at the hobbit with a content smile decorated his face. Bilbo frowned at his words, but only for a blink before it softened into a beaming happiness as the hobbit placed the tray of their breakfast in front of him. “It’s not a dream.” Bilbo seated next to him while whispering breathlessly, “and I’m not going to be a fool again to dare leaving you after everything.”

They exchanged gaze and by his Maker Thorin swore they should stay like this forever.

“Trust me you wouldn’t even think about it.” His voice turned lower and full of danger, yet somehow it only made Bilbo erupted into loud squeal, “I’m not going to let you out my sight, dear Bilbo, even if I had to chain you to my heart.”

“Sweet Yavanna, you had big mouth.” Bilbo giggled shyly.

“I’m not only big, lovely, I’m _huge_.” He chuckled into Bilbo’s chubby cheeks as they turned into darker shade of red. “I thought you know it already.”

“Confiscated dwarf.” Bilbo pouted.

“Cute hobbit.” Thorin retorted.

 

“Excuse me.” just as they engaged into a lustful glaring contest, a third voice interrupted. Both looked up to see Bofur grinned dashingly it hurt Thorin’s eyes. He scowled back at the musician, though he was just ashamed Bofur caught him looked like sappy teenager in love. “I’ve hate to interrupt, because I’d like it better to watch you two in my hiding spot since you both are a lovely pair. I think I could make a legendary poem from your love story.” No, the confession didn’t make Thorin feel better. Even Bilbo could only stammer incoherently, unsure what to react. “But first thing first,” Bofur pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket, “there’s a message from Balin, just arrived this morning.”

Thorin received it and while he read the cryptic message, next to him, Bilbo stretched _his_ neck to see the writings. Of course the hobbit couldn’t read it but the effort already spread warmth on Thorin skin at how adorable the gesture was. Oh, how he wished to just hold Bilbo all days and nights to make up the cursed years of longing!

“What is it?” Bilbo curiously asked.

“I was expected to reunite with my company in this spring.” Thorin explained, “After the incident with Azog, the King wanted us to scout the gates of Moria and gather information about the Orcs movement.”

“Is this the same company from five years ago?” Bilbo asked again, “with Frerin and Dwalin?”

“Yes.” Thorin nodded, though it left a pang of jealousy in him to have Bilbo remembered his brother and his cousin name, but not his. Not that he had a time to introduce himself properly. He took a breath and began telling Bilbo about the company -with some acceptable interruption from Bofur- and just like five years ago, Bilbo still had dazzling spark in his eyes to hear about quests and their victory over killing beasts. The hobbit beamed when being told about silly stories during the journey and cringed at the nasty description about the beasts.

“I’ve seen trolls and orcs sometimes on my duty.” Bilbo said and for a moment Thorin stared at the hobbit in daze. He forgot Bilbo was a ranger now. “But they didn’t know hobbit scent and so I tried not to be cross with their path. I’ll just do my job scouting and then reported my finding to Arathorn.” a small smile performed on Bilbo’s face, hopefully not because the damned leader of Ranger. Even after the love reconnected Bilbo with him, Thorin couldn’t stop his fury for Arathorn. “Not that I can’t fight, but Ranger was a force of defense. We fought to protect lives.”

“So why you became a ranger?” The topic brought the previously dodged question into the surface.

Bilbo scrunched his face, “isn’t that obvious now? I’m a single parent and I had a boy to feed and to protect.” the beauty said it casually but it didn't lessen the guilt from stabbing through Thorin's heart. Absently, he tugged Bilbo into his chest and he buried his face into the side head of his hobbit, inhaling the scent and then breathing heavily,

"You're not by yourself anymore, Bilbo..." he groaned, "now you have me."


	11. First Light of Spring

*

Bilbo stretched his body, gladly welcomed the warm sun of the spring and let the light absorbed through his hobbit skin. Standing by the Carrock Top, he wore a content smile for the days ahead after surviving months of chilling winter. Not entirely bad, this winter, because he met Thorin again and somehow found their heart reciprocate in Arathorn would say as ‘stupid love’, though Bilbo preferred it as a romantic ‘soul bond’.

He inhaled a deep breath and had his nostril flared in embarrassment for sudden dramatic plot running in his thought _. Of how Thorin sweet words and touch stained him to the deepest corner of his heart, of how the dwarf smelled so good and addicting when they leaned into a close embrace, of how Thorin held him, warmed him and kissed him until his stomach fluttered and twisted in strange nausea._ Once he afraid if he probably got pregnant again, but then he dismissed such silly thought. How exactly to be pregnant if they only shared bed and not their desire yet?

_‘I hope you don’t mind if I want to court you properly this time._ ’ His face gradually hued in red as Thorin’s words swirled in his dizzily-in-love mind. He was fine with this innocent domesticity and he respected the dwarf decision even if his lust had to wait another decade to be properly sated. It’s not enough, it’ll be never enough just to have Thorin lie by his side, but as long as Thorin stayed Bilbo wouldn’t complain -or will try not to.

 

“So it’s settled then?” Arathorn appeared next to him, standing while lit his pipe, “the things between you and the dwarf?”

Bilbo looked up with the sheepish smile and red blush wouldn’t just fade from his face. He thought to have Thorin accepted him and Darin as a _dream came true_. “I hope so.” He answered giddily, much to annoy the grey-eyed ranger. “It was far from happy ending though, but at least we know what to do after this.” he asked Thorin and it surprised him to hear Thorin didn’t oblige him to live in Erebor. Bilbo could choose to live there like a royalty or stayed in Rivendell where the hobbit found the most comfort.

Bilbo sighed. “He loved me.” he stated dreamily. Even if Bilbo chose to live in Troll Cave he didn’t think Thorin would object.

“I know.” Arathorn chuckled lowly while raking the bigger fingers on his curl, tickled Bilbo with giddiness which then turned into squeal. He raised both his hands to catch Arathorn’s and stopped the man from molesting his scalp with such affection. “Just be careful from now on.” Arathorn retreated in understanding cause Bilbo wasn’t free to touch anymore. There’s someone owned Bilbo’s heart and even Arathorn still hated Thorin, the man respected the line of boundary between them. “Not everyone get their second chance.”

Bilbo giggled, “Yes, Chieftain.” He said it with a mock salute, knowing that there’s no such thing as formality between Rangers. In return, Arathorn smiled warmly before offering Bilbo to share _his_ pipe. Long they stood in peaceful silence, before Elias came up to inform the arrival of the company of dwarves.

 

“What do you think about their quest?” Bilbo asked as he climbed down the stairs next to Arathorn.

The man gave him a look, “No, Bilbo. I won’t allow you to help them. You already disobey my order to stay in Rivendell during winter. You are forbidden to leave Darin for the rest of Spring.” Although the leader looked carefree and a bit foolish, but Arathorn’s order was absolute and if Bilbo chose to break it, he had to face the consequence.

“I’m just wondering if you’re interested to help them.” he scowled, “I mean, we know more about Moria than them and we could at least shared information.”

Arathorn halted him, “Bilbo.” the man said lowly, carefully, “they’re dwarves, remember? How do you think they’ll react if we told them we found a secret tunnel into their –supposed- abandoned city and stole their city maps?”

“We just borrowed them.” Bilbo answered warily, cause it was his idea after all to take Moria’s ancient blue prints from their unexpected exploration and brought _it_ to be translated and copied for his own collection. “And I already put them back to where they belong, mind you. I’m not a thief. I’m a respectable Ranger Hobbit.” He felt his face fumed in shame for his sudden exclamation and only felt worse afterwards. He can’t help it! Ancient tomes and old maps were his favorite things in the world. He was drawn to _them_ like dragon drawn to gold treasures. “If you think letting them to blindly go into Moria is the best way to do, then I will be very cross with you, Arathorn!”

“Who said I’ll let them go by themselves?” Arathorn raised eyebrows in amusement and sudden realization struck Bilbo so hard he had to gape wide to be able breathing again.

“You mean… you…”

Arathorn answered with a small smile and a tug to his arm, “come on, Bilbo. Let’s greet our guests.”

 

…………………………………………………

 

When Bilbo arrived at the hall, he found Thorin stood near the fireplace. He approached the dwarf, almost teasing the way Thorin glared at the floor as if the brunette could grew a stone statue out of it. However, when Bilbo came into sight, Thorin’s gaze snapped and immediately melted into his green orbs. The anxiety and coldness from before dissipated, and all Bilbo got was gleaming love radiated from Thorin in which he became at loss. He could say nothing more hence mocking his _lover_ –Sweet Yavanna they’re lover now!- for the unnecessary frown, only gasped a helpless sigh and gazed back in glittering love-struck.

_How sappy you are, Bilbo Baggins._ His heart said.

“Where have you been?”Thorin asked despite knowing, and only used the question to draw bridge of closeness in between them since the whisper shortened their distance and connected their fingers to entwine. Bilbo averted his gaze from Thorin, now eyeing their hands wide-eyed. All these times he thought a heart throb was only a phase when it was hard to accept the shower of affection and love. He thought when his mind and heart settled, there’ll be no more thumping heartbeat or rushing heat through his veins.

 

Apparently he was wrong.

 

His inside world still turned upside down and his mind nearly broke into madness just because he loved Thorin in his every pore and knowing Thorin felt the same only burn his already flaming skin. “I…You…” he grunted lowly at how stupid he might look, always stammering and stuttering in front of Thorin. He blinked and looked up into Thorin’s face again, kicked himself mentally before breathed out, “You know where I am.” He braced himself to smile hopefully it didn’t look like an awkward gasp.

Thorin smirked in return and Bilbo had an urge to kiss such handsome face. His lover was so handsome and tall and strong and his! Yes, this dwarf was belongs to Bilbo and no one else! He didn’t even care if he sounded so haughtily possessive right now.

 

“They’re here.”

Gandalf’s announcement broke the moment and so Bilbo let Thorin held his hand as the small group of Rangers and three guests went into Entrance Hall to greet the newcomers. _Eleven of them_ , Bilbo counted the heads and he looked at Thorin, expecting the dwarf to look at least relief to be reunited with _his_ team, because even Bofur couldn’t stand in wait and just rushed to one of the company member, probably the brother or the cousin (Or Miss Dori, as Bilbo saw Bofur got a smack for _attacking_ the grey-haired dam)

However, Thorin cursed in his native tongue and while the dwarf released Bilbo’s palm gently, the way Thorin stomped his way to meet the company worried Bilbo. He wanted to call Thorin, asked if something wrong happened but his gaze caught a warning look from Gandalf in which told him it’s the best to keep his mouth shut and just watch.

 

“UNCLE!”

 

“BALIN!” Thorin bellowed when he was attacked by two young dwarves, “WHAT ARE THESE KIDS DOING HERE?!”

 

“We’re here to help you, Uncle.” One of the young nephews with brown hair and bright smile beamed happily.

 

“Under the order of King.” The one with dirty blond hair added proudly.

 

“NONSENSE!” Thorin still bellowed angrily, “GO BACK NOW! Ori, escort them back!”

 

“But Thorinnnn…” the brown haired whined, “we want to helpppp!”

 

“And we’re just arrived here.” The blond reasoned with a careless shrug, before leaving Thorin to enter the building. Bilbo saw the sapphire blue eyes eyed narrowed at him judgingly when the boy passed and his stomach just swelled at how similar _he_ looked to Darin. When _his_ name shouted as ‘Fili’ the boy turned and only snorted in answer to any warning shouted from Thorin in khuzdul words, then the blond greeted Gandalf with a little nod and sly smile.

“Gandalf.”

“I must say Fili, I don’t expect to see you and your brother here.” Gandalf smiled a little too cheerfully. Indeed the wizard must be entertained from other people’s misery, Bilbo thought. “Might as well I introduce you to Rangers of Dunedain. Here’s the Leader, Arathorn, then Elias, the second-in-command, Galen and Gilraen, also my favorite ranger, Bilbo Baggins.”

“But he’s just a kid.” Fili looked at him in surprise.

“No, I’m not.” Bilbo had enough people think of him as a kid. He’s 33 for the Valar sake!

 

“He’s a hobbit.” A gruff voice appeared next to Fili and when Bilbo recognized the bald dwarf, he couldn’t help but jumped in happiness. “Dwalin!” he shouted. Finally, he saw familiar face!

“It’s nice to be remembered, master hobbit.” Dwalin patted his back and then released him with a sigh, “You drove Thorin crazy for five damned years you know? What are you thinking just leaving him like that?! Wait…” Dwalin furrowed his thick eyebrows in realization, “aren’t you supposed to live in Shire?”

“Uh…it’s a long story.” Bilbo titled his head and laughed shyly. “By the way, where’s Frerin?”

“Who is he?” Fili interrupted.

“What is a ‘hobbit’?” the brown haired nephew trailed next to grumpy Thorin, but to see the dwarf could do nothing aside swearing under _his_ breath made Bilbo smiled in a content joy. He would trade everything to see Thorin around Darin, to have the dwarf dealt with their son’s energy and if Thorin’s nephews were immune to their uncle’s rants, he believed Thorin must love these boys like crazy.

 

_Will he love Darin like this?_ The mental question flashed in his mind and for a moment he was wary. But then Thorin reached his hand and stood close to him, Bilbo snapped and smiled at the dwarf while scolding himself. The time for longing had ended. There’s only happiness this present day and there’ll be only better future for both of them. So he grasped the bigger hand in support, and leaned up to kiss Thorin on the cheek, whispering, “It’s okay. Everything will be fine.”

It’s everyday word, but at the right moment it gave people courage and faith to keep moving on with their life.

 

…………………………………………………

 

Thorin stared at his nephews, part angry, part worried, part… he didn’t know. These kids were the closest things he would call sons, though they had their own parents. Their father was the Head of Royal Library in Erebor –it's a great job, but not so awesome- and they grew up listening to the tales of Thorin’s company. They lived in dream to join him hunting beasts and though he only smiled didn’t mean he will let them put their heads in line of danger.

“Seriously, what my father had thinking?” Thorin sighed at Balin who smoked pipe next to him, “I can’t do my job while babysitting them.”

Balin smiled at the sight of young dwarves chatting animatedly with Ori in the middle of them, knitting quietly, “Thorin, I promise you won’t. They are more capable than you think. On our way through Mirkwood they saved us from Spiders.” Thorin raised eyebrows in interest, “they’ve been having their own adventure with little Gimli –don’t tell his father- and little Bard for five years. They’re not a burden.”

“They’re still a burden to me.” Thorin answered stubbornly, in hope Balin understood he didn’t talk about their skills. It’s the same when he had to bring Frerin around. He can’t keep his eyes away from his brother because he believed it’ll be his to blame if anything happened to Frerin. Now he had double trouble to watch over.

“We’ll protect them, Thorin.” Balin tapped his shoulder, “We promised the King, the whole Company will protect them whatever it costs.”

It should give Thorin a little peace, but no, he preferred to always be alerted and cautious. He frowned at Balin but nodded just so they don’t have to continue this conversation. He had enough headaches already and they’re not even discussing about the quest yet.

 

“So…” after a long pause, Balin suddenly spoke, “you found your hobbit.”

Thorin raked his gaze through the room. Bilbo was in the kitchen, helping Bombur and Bifur prepared dinner for everyone. Thorin already said to let his company cooked as gratitude for Ranger’s hospitality but Bilbo nudged his ribs while whispering dirtily about stealing recipe of dwarven cookies. He could do nothing aside looking at Bilbo like star hung on the hobbit face and couldn’t stop the smile crack his grumpy façade. “He’s…” Thorin began, but soon lost his words.

 

“He loved me.” Thorin glanced at Balin, a crooked smirk tearing his face.

 

“The feeling is mutual then.” Balin chuckled in return. “When is the wedding?”

 

The usual Thorin will grunt in shame at the tease but he only laughed while smacking Balin’s back. He rarely laughed or being happy in general. Now even his nephews staring at him in dumbstruck, probably questioning his sanity. But Thorin didn’t mind the curious eyes on him, not when Thorin caught a glance from certain beauty from the kitchen door. 

 

As soon as their eyes met, his laugh faltered into a sighing grin. His mind was dizzy from inappropriate thoughts for the hobbit and his head nodded in majestic greet towards his lover -Mahal, finally!- challenged Bilbo to answer his taunt.

 

Bilbo blew him a flying kiss and Thorin had to keep his palms in each his side so he didn't have to do something so cheesy like catching the kiss and returned the favor. Although, he let out another airy laugh and let Balin got away from commenting slyly, “Someday he’ll be the death of you, Thorin.”

 

_He already did._ Thorin snorted. Just a few weeks ago, Bilbo gave him heart attack when the hobbit revealed about their son, sending him into the seventh layers in Mahal's Hall and then crashed again on the stone floor of Carrock room. It needed hours to understand the idea of Bilbo was blessed as bearer, needed days of explaining and describing about the son of Thorin until he could contain his impatience from fleeing through Misty Mountain so he could meet Darin directly and feeling the boy's warmth in his arms. He can't wait, he told Bilbo many times until he stopped talking about it and chanting in his mind instead. He wanted to meet, wanted to reunite, wanted to make things right for once and secured a family of his own.

However, as Thorin looked at each faces of his company members, he decided to keep about Darin from them -at least until the quest ended- because he could understand what his friends would say about him abandoned his son, and they probably would judge Bilbo _harshly_ for keeping a dwarfling from its father and birthright as the child from King’s Line.

 

…………………………………………………

 

The ranger gave them a decent room to fit thirteen so they could talk about their quest in more private surrounding. However, Gandalf suggested them to share their plan with the Rangers. Balin and Oin against it because this quest was _strictly_ for Dwarrow, while Thorin actually didn’t mind the Wizard’s reasoning. They’ve been helping the Rangers annihilated Azog –though it was a failure- and it’s only proper to return the favor.

“What do they know about Moria?” asked Oin a little accusingly.

“Not more than you know about them.” answered Arathorn neutrally. “But we know the road and passage around the mountain more than you. If you’re willing to share your quest with us, we’ll provide you with any information about the scouting job. Besides, it’ll be hard to guard both entrée and splitting your team in half is dangerous.”

“What’s your benefit then?” Dori dared to ask the Ranger, “What kind of payment you’ll expect from us?” Thorin hoped she didn’t offend anyone by her saying the blatant truth.

“Maybe for allegiance, Miss Dori?” the only she-ranger, Gilraen, answered for her. “We know your kin don’t trust Men, but we’re Ranger of Dunedain. We had Ethic Codes and we fought for our honor and for our friends.”  

“Why struggle with less if you could double your team?” Elias shrugged in addition, “we’ve could split job. For example, we could watch Dimriil Gate while you lot scouted the East Gate.”

“That’s good idea.” Nori snapped all of sudden from _his_ slumber. How the spy could even sleep in this tension room? “Personally I don’t mind sharing our quest since I’m the only spy in the company. Of course it’ll be hard to split myself.”

“It’s not impossible?” Ori asked the brother in disbelief. Nori only sneered back at her.

 

“But this is unacceptable! This quest was given by the King-…”

“Let’s see the reason here, we don’t often travel around Misty Mountain, we need help!”

“Gandalf can be our guide!”

“It doesn’t solve the problem that we need to split up between two Gates!”

 

Thorin sighed in defeat. Truly he loved his friends but sometimes they’re just enjoyed arguing with each other too much. He eyed the three Rangers and Gandalf who watched his folks with silent interest before his eyes met with Arathorn and suddenly he dreaded. “Where’s Bilbo?” He asked the leader in a rasp whisper but it enough to cease the commotion and turned everyone attention between the man and him. Some expected another exchange of insults, some even betting there’ll be brawl and bruises.

“I just sent him home.” Arathorn tried to be civic and grumbled lowly, “He’s riding with Galen till the Tunnel.”

“Why?” Thorin clenched his palms, “can’t it wait until morning? Can’t he even say goodbye?”

Arathorn eyes twitched dangerously, “Bilbo Baggins is breaking my order to stay out the post during winter and so I had to relieve him from his duty, and he’s MY Ranger so I don’t see why you had to bother.”

 

Later on, Gandalf explained that Bilbo needed to start his ride from Carrock after the supper, because it’ll be safer to go through the tunnel when the hobbit arrived in the morning. Truthfully, Thorin didn’t mind with Arathorn decision to send Bilbo away, it’ll cease the fear in him to worry about Bilbo trying to help his quest. If then he had to nurture his swollen eye and bruised face after putting a good fight with the Ranger, it’ll only because he loved unnecessary quarreling as much as the next dwarf.

 

*


End file.
